thirsty & empty cup.

Thirsty. Like when the room is dark but the alarm clock glows green. And it’s three-something a.m.; minutes tick by, rapidly.

My mind races rapidly and I swallow hard and remember that I am thirsty. Out of bed; into the kitchen. Not wearing my contacts and the light is off, so when I pour water, it splashes. Half on the counter, half into the glass. The water is cold and wet and clean and just what I craved. Quenched.

No solution for a racing mind, but what a solution for thirst.

Thirsty. When I snap and the snark comes a little too easily and the sarcasm drips. When I look around at my world full of blessings and see a world full of bleh. When compassion doesn’t come naturally. When I’m snippy and I say things I don’t mean and think things I don’t mean and that thirst is obvious. Oh, so thirsty for this grace, this redemption, this God.

Thirsty – when everything but my heart is full. Calendar, mind, sink, to-do list, refrigerator, closet, purse, desk, files, gas tank. Full, overflowing sometimes.

My heart is empty and so thirsty. Forward I go, to the One who fills my cup.

Linking up with the wonderful Joy in this Journey today for Life:Unmasked.

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2 thoughts on “thirsty & empty cup.

  1. Oh my word, this pierced me: “When I snap and the snark comes a little too easily and the sarcasm drips.” Been doing this way too much lately. Thank you for the gentle conviction and reminder that it is only by the grace of God! Only.

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