By Ashlie Miller

One evening this week, amid a gentle rain shower, I stretched out on the couch on our porch and drifted off to sleep to the steady lullaby. My weary body and spirit craved the refreshment of the rain. Earlier that morning, I had walked in the humidity, noticing water running off lawns into the storm drains. What a waste! Yet, the parched ground is thirsty for water, and sprinklers will have to suffice in the absence of precipitation.

The earth knows what it is like to be thirsty. But do we? Physically, I wonder. I laugh at myself upon recovering from the sounds of thermal double-wall bottles clanging with a heart-stopping shatter to the floor. I am amused and confounded by the status symbol, even among tween girls, over having multiple Stanley cups. If ever a generation lacked the sensation of physical thirst, it would be the age and culture in which we live.

However, can you go back in time with me to a more dehydrated generation? Remember running through the oscillating sprinklers and then panting to grab a hosepipe? What about enduring PE laps or the long class that seemed it would never dismiss and gathering in front of the water fountain for your turn for a drink? We can remember being thirsty and longing for that moment around the shiny silver bowl. If you had access to a water cooler with individual cups, you were in heaven!

When was the last time you were spiritually thirsty? You woke up in the morning desperate for answers or the presence of a God. Perhaps sleep alluded you as you wrestled through the night until you flicked on a low-watt light to read a few passages from a large, well-worn book to speak peace and comfort. You set your calendar by what was happening at church. You longed for fellowship with your brothers and sisters — to worship, share hope and hear the truth. Maybe you have never experienced the latter but long for some community and being known.

But things have changed. Life is so busy. Like grabbing the Sundrop, the extra tall latte, or a canned energy drink, you have filled your life with other things to quench your thirst and keep you moving. Self-care can mask deep hurts and spiritual thirst. Focusing on our emotional and psychological selves and taking ownership of our identity can even get in the way of quenching our souls. The mesmerizing LED screen is not filling it, nor is the constant stream of activity, workouts or other substances. Even an educated listening ear can only sometimes get to the bottom of it or offer what will truly satisfy.

Like David in Psalms 63, let us be seekers, realizing our thirst can only be quenched in God through His Son Jesus because His “steadfast love is better than life.” What a statement! David likely wrote it in the wilderness when being hunted down mercilessly. Yet, he knew what could quench his thirst.

I still say there’s nothing quite like a gulp of cool water from a hosepipe after a strenuous activity, and there is nothing as refreshing as Jesus in my life. When have you last experienced something sustaining that is “better than life”?

Ashlie Miller, her husband and five children live in Concord.