Water Seeks the Lowest Ground

‘Before you call, I will answer you’ (Is. 65:24).

Do we even know what we need? Just prior to Lent, I confessed symptoms of lack—outbursts, intemperance in food and drink, poor judgments—but I could not name my need. Jesus knows. And He provides for you and me through Lent: 40 days where we can be still and allow Him to love us, to provide for us. The desert exposes untouched depths of soul that only living water can reach. His water—nothing less than Mercy itself—seeks the lowest ground in us.

One morning last week, before the Divine Mercy image, the eyes of my heart beheld a small rushing stream enter a hole in my ‘ground.’ It poured for minutes: 5, 10, 15, 20. I received instead of analyzed. Parched ground saturates slowly. It took time for His mercy to fill this dry cavity, whatever it was. When I could see the water ‘topping off’ the cistern, I arose refreshed.

Afterwards, I noticed my outlook was calmer, more generous. Annette needed to sort out some complicated things with me. I had much else to do. Yet something had shifted in me, and I was happy to hear her and to work out what we must. Afterwards, I initiated some future plans that possessed many variables outside my control—namely timing and the will of multiple others. So be it. Life in the desert is hot yet expansive. Waiting is tolerable by the stream of life. Water seeks our lowest ground.

We welcome mercy to extend mercy. I just read that 1 in 6 persons between the ages of 18 and 22 identify as something other than heterosexual (NBC News Article). Fluidity is now in our water and air. Virtual porn culture has burned boundaries and erased shame. Primed to long for flesh of all kinds, a generation's alien desires become familiar, part of the fun. But no longer experiencing shame does not mean we wound less. Like leprosy, we may not feel the burn but we still burn. Degeneration requires nothing less than the river that rolls into our desert and covers our nakedness with holy love. Water seeks the lowest ground.

Most of us ache as loved ones becomes strangers, accuse us of abuse for not high-fiving their fluidity. For them we cry out: ‘Open the eyes of their hearts, Lord!’ But we can only do so out of love if we first open our cavities to Jesus—our regrets, guilt, striving, failures, emptiness, pious hypocrisies, family ‘dreams.’ May Your merciful waters find our lowest ground, Jesus.

‘Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him’ (Matt. 6:8).