“Take these with a full glass of water,” the pharmacist instructed, handing me pills the size of golf balls-well, okay- miniature golf, maybe. In a hurry the next morning, I grabbed one as I headed out the door, and swallowed it dry. Or tried to. It stuck in my throat, and no amount of tonsil gymnastics could joggle it down. At one point I thought I’d succeeded, until an acrid taste crept up my throat, proving otherwise. Knowing it could cause permanent damage and scar tissue, I stopped for water and washed it down.
Life sometimes hands us pills too big to swallow alone: bad news, a shocking event- the kind that sticks in our throat, placing life in a freeze-frame, as we gasp for breath. This kind of pill comes with instructions, too:
TAKE WITH A FULL GLASS OF WATER.
The Living Water, the kind Jesus offered the desperate woman at the well (John 4:7), keeps us from suffocating on things too hard, too big for us. It washes away residual bitterness, and protects against chronic heartburn- you know the kind; the emotional fire that springs up suddenly, triggered by some innocuous thing, just when we’ve convinced ourselves we’ve come through.
Whatever’s going down in this life, we can cry,
“O Lord, stay with me! Help me swallow this! Fill me with the Water of Your Holy Spirit!”
He promises to do so. His well of Living Water never runs dry. I know this Full Well.
“Call upon me in the day of trouble. I will deliver you and you shall glorify me. Psalm 50:15