One morning  last week, Tom and I were presented a robust concert on the deck.  Birds were everywhere–darting here and there and back again– in trees and bushes.  The hummingbirds fighting more vigorously than usual.  But all were singing.   Though a strange cacophony, there was  a certain joyfulness.  Tom said during breakfast, “The birds are unusually loud.”

“It’s going to rain,”  I said, and they are happy.

It had not rained in ‘forty days and forty nights’.  Well, it seemed so. It has been a long, hot, dry summer in middle Tennessee.  We haven’t mowed  the lawn the last two weeks as the grass is brown and dying.  The fall perennials are begging for moisture or they will not survive. Signs of fall have arrived too quickly.  The little maple below was a magnificent red last fall. (Today, every yellow, dry leaf  in this picture taken last week has fallen, and it is now bare.)

Isn’t it amazing how quickly we can go from flood conditions to drought.  Early summer we had to mow weekly–or even twice a week.  Remember the large tub —-https://ajourneytonow.me/2015/06/02/overflowing was full and running over; I didn’t know what to do with excess water.

Is this not life?  How quickly we can go from feast to famine in our spiritual lives.

The colorless pictures above often mirror my own dryness –brittle and a bit crumbling.  Easily frayed at frantic winds.  I, too, become thirsty. I need the rains to fall on me–around me.  I understand the psalmist’s cry, “As the deer thirsts for the water brooks, so my soul thirsts for you, O Lord.” Psalm 42:1.

Thirsty deer actually make a loud panting, braying sound as they look for water.  When  deer go too long without water, they literally cry out for a water source.  But they must keep looking. We fret over times of dryness and wonder why. Various reasons–we each can name ours–sickness takes its toll; heartaches in broken relationships; sadness;  a focus on pain; travel-anything that  changes our routine.

Dryness is subtle–it begins slowly, quietly, innocently.

For me, it happens when I let ‘life’  get in the way of  drinking.  Mornings that I do not spend  time in the predawn hours, reading, listening–hearing His whispers. I don’t take the time to drink hungrily of the Word.

(And I  think I have a good excuse:-)   Another bout of active positive mono–and I am not able in my own strength to awaken in readiness and excitement.  I can so easily miss mornings to drink with the Source. And I can wither in the heat as quickly as a recently transplanted flower.

What happens when we don’t drink enough water–clean, fresh H2O?  The answer is simple–dehydration.  A 10% drop in our body’s water supply will land us in the hospital, but a mere 2% drop can trigger signs of dehydration, including: trouble concentrating, headaches, fatigue and difficulty focusing on smaller print, such as a book or a computer screen. In fact, mild dehydration is one of the most common causes of daytime fatigue as blood carries oxygen to the brain, and when blood volume is low (due to dehydration) the brain receives less oxygen than it needs, resulting in fatigue and difficulty concentrating.  (Health and Science, Jerusalem Post)

What signs of spiritual dehydration do I face?

I was as excited that rain was predicted  last week as the birds were.  I anticipated a drenching, soaking downpour.

My desire is that I continually drink.  But when I am distracted, when I lose focus— I pray thirst guides me back to the Source. I want to crave His word  no matter the circumstances of life that alter my routine.

dry. . .  thirsty. . .drinking . . .soaked.