Rockin’ my bed head and mismatched PJ’s, I meandered into my bathroom to prep for a day of meetings. I flipped on the shower, and as I turned my back, the soothing sound of running water had been replaced with loud banging, the labored hissing of air and gurgling, moaning pipes. Frantically, I ran to the sink, flipped on the faucet: Banging. Hissing. Gurgling. Moaning. I growled in frustration. In utter desperation, I ran to the toilet, “If there is still water in the toilet, there is hope!” Yet, it was bone dry.
My mind raced through a myriad of possibilities and problems: Did something break in the basement? DID I FORGET TO PAY THE WATER BILL?!! What will that take to fix? Is our yard flooded? Is this a city problem? Was there boil order this morning? Did I give my kids contaminated water?! Going to meetings without shower or brushing my teeth?! Not an option!!! Dang it! I forgot to wash my pants! Shoot! I forgot to wash my shirt!!
In the midst of my anxious, mental spiral there was a knock on the door. It was a water main break. My street was flooded. The ground was saturated from weeks of rain, and yet I didn’t have enough water to take care of myself, let alone help any of my neighbors. I needed water.
More times than I would like to count, I have found myself emotionally, spiritually and physically depleted, frantically hoping somewhere in my soul I could find just one drop of water. This has come after well-meaning, but disordered moments of care in which I have put the needs of other’s souls before the needs of my own soul and avoided rest and sabbath—water. It has come after seasons of immense loss when I excelled at ensuring everyone else was okay, and yet I found my body and soul aching to mourn, lament and receive love, care and the embrace of God and community—water. It has come in seasons when life has simply gotten busy, because well, life gets busy, and tomorrow was always the day I would slow to rest and receive what God had to give—water.
It sounds so cliche, but its true, “You can’t give water you don’t have to give.” So with love and grace, when was the last time you stopped to ask, “How is it with my soul?” Are you in need of spiritual water? When was the last time you did something you love, something that really gives you life, because well, delighting in good is a spiritual practice when our hearts are oriented toward God? When was the last time you truly slowed and tasted a meal and celebrated its complexity because each herb, spice and element was created by God and put together by someone whose creative genius is a reflection of our Creator? When was the last time you took a nap because your body has limitations and you decided to stop and give your body the rest it needed, trusting that God can still move and take care of things while you rest? When is the last time you celebrated, slowed, noticed or expressed gratitude because all of these practices open us to experience God’s love more fully?
Whether it is diving in and studying scripture, engaging in Sabbath rest, slowing, delighting or celebrating, all of these practices and more are ways we can receive the truly life-giving water God offers us. Each spiritual practice is a loving, grace-filled invitation to open ourselves more fully to the God who is already present to us, loves us unconditionally, and is closer than our very breath. Amazingly, there are longings in your soul right now that match up perfectly with the spiritual practices God is inviting you into in this season. Longings for community, longings for rest, longings for the Word, longings for laughter and celebration, longings for worship, longings to take a walk in nature and stand in awe of the beauty of creation, all are invitations to open to God and drink deeply.
So, How is it with your soul?* It can be a scary question to ask, but wherever you are there is hope. God is not done. God sees you, unconditionally loves you and is in the business of bringing new life—fresh, living water. Those longings you have for slowing, rest, community, celebration, creating, lamenting, praying and sabbath, and more, in those places, those longings, is God’s invitation to renewal and transformation. If spiritually you find yourself frantically running between the shower, sink and toilet, searching every corner of your soul, praying for just a drop of water, it might be time to slow down, sit with your maker, and let God take care of you for a while. After all, we all need water, and in Christ, there is never a shortage of living water.
*”How is it with your soul?” is a question that has been asked for centuries. Ruth Haley Barton is the one who has framed this question for me and personally challenged me to embrace this question regularly. It is a regular part of my spiritual practices.