Welcome to Free Poem Friday once again!
Thank you all for letting me take some time off and for your prayers as well. They are greatly appreciated.
I was blessed to have Mrs. GPP fill in for me last week and didn’t she do lovely!
The poem below is a much older work of mine that I felt led to share again. It is about finding yourself in that “desert place”. The place where you struggle and don’t feel like you are getting anywhere. The thirst for healing, truth, love, and blessing in that time can be so intensely felt and some folks don’t often know where to turn for help. But…that thirst can and will be quenched! If you cry out to Jesus for his help.
Our Lord Jesus says in John 4:14 “but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
If you’re reading this post and life seems to be tearing you apart, draw deep into Jesus. There you will find rest, peace, strength, hope, and eternal life.
Please comment, re-post, “Like” on Facebook and Twitter, and most of all, tell others what you’ve read here today.
May the Lord shine upon you this day,
The Great Plains Poet
And I Draw The Water Once More
by Chris T.
Tossing my bucket down the well
A quick silence fills that space in time before the splash
Contact with the water is great
And the sound of “glug, glug” is music to my ears
The last bit of saliva forms in the back of my throat
For the anticipation of Living Water is palpable
My patience is tested as I wait for the bucket to fill
And the desert’s cruel mirage continues to act out its deadly theater
Now comes the hardest part; the pull upward
One fist in front of the other, I draw up this weathered rope
My arms shake in a rhythm of swaying and groans
Doubt then comes to sojourn my mind
Temptation becomes greatest in the middle
“Can I pull some more, will the rope break and will I perish before my chore is done?”
A small piece of doubt, but no great chunk of disbelief
The edge of the well slowly begins to nick away at the strands
Oh, the effort is great and the sun so merciless
My palms are screaming to let go of the rope
But my faint heart knows the power of the water
Burn muscles burn; I will not let go
Finally, the bucket has reached the top
I plunge my head into the water
Like a savage whose thirst was ample
Now gently I cup my hands and gather the bounty
To my lips, I place the Living Water
All doubt has ebbed away
This broken body is now rejuvenated
The path to the next well doesn’t seem so far