The Water

The Water

A thirst wells up within her
As she holds the bucket tight
Empty, without water
As she travels in the night.

Searching for the liquid that
Will quench her growing thirst,
Dreaming of an ocean
But she only finds the worst.

Muddy pools of algae
Next to swamps of muck and mire;
She searches with her bucket,
As her dry throat feels like fire.

A voice calls through the darkness,
"Living water I will give!
Bring to me your bucket,
Come to me and you will live.

"Your bucket I will fill up
With my water pure and free.
It quenches thirst forever
You will never go empty."

She listens to the voice
But she will not understand.
She struggles in the darkness,
Her bucket in her hand.

"Maybe on the morrow,
And maybe o'er that hill."
She searches on her own,
With her bucket empty still.

She stumbles and she lies there,
Now too weak, she can't go on.
Resources are depleted,
Self-sufficiency is gone.

The voice comes through the darkness,
"Oh, my child, my child, it's me.
I'm here and I still love you,
I have water pure and free.

"Have you finished all your searching?
Are you willing now to give
Me your heart and soul forever?
Take my water now, and live!

"Acknowledge you can't make it
On your own there's just no way!
For sin pollutes and muddies,
And it brings death and decay.

"But my gift of living water
Is salvation from your sin.
It satisfies and quenches,
And it cleanses from within."

And the woman looked up at him
As she heard his words so true.
She realized just exactly
What she needed now to do.

"I thought that I could make it.
I thought that I could stand.
But I was wrong, I know it,"
As she reached up for his hand.

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Lord, I Need You