I am thirsty, incredibly thirsty. I just had a huge glass of cold Tropicana Grovestand orange juice. I didn’t know it until I tasted it, but I was craving it. It was so delicious, good, pure and sweet. I want more. I may just get more when I’m done here. But the thirst of my body is not exactly what I’m getting at. It’s true, my body thirsts in other ways, in out-of-shape 29-year-old ways. My right knee is weak and hurts when I put weight on it, brought on by some unknown trigger last weekend. And my mind doesn’t seem to be getting enough rest lately. And I guess that’s really it. I’m restless inside, thirsty for something more.
My soul is desirous of something it does not have. Only, I’m at a loss to discern what it is. I know that I bear the weight of hurt and loss all around me. I know too much. I feel the pain of the people around me. I’ve lived too much. I have regrets. Uncertainty lies before me, resides within. Like a mass of smog obscuring the mountains from view, so are my emotions to my heart. In the past, I had been nothing if not in tune with my inner thoughts and feelings. Now, I simply walk on, contented with the outcomes of the battles of the past where I fought to find meaning and direction. I am not prepared to succomb to mediocrity or settle for anything less than zealous pursuit of my dreams. But every adventurer needs to pause sometimes, look at his compass, survey the land, conceive again the reason and reward of the journey, rest and revel in progress made, before embarking once again for new lands.
May every mountain flow free with living springs and every valley be lined with orange groves as far as the eye can see!
I am comforted with this one thought. To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. Even the most delicious oranges beg the patience of the grower. In the meantime the tree must be cultivated, readied to bear fruit. And we must realize that as we are laid bare we are well made ready.