Not Working Up a Thirst

Rumor has it that summer is officially over and autumn has arrived. You couldn’t prove it today by the thermometer, but the weatherman is predicting temperatures in the 70’s this weekend. Even so, we won’t soon forget summer’s heat.

I’m not a green-thumb person, but for Mother’s Day I bought my wife some purple flowers to put around the mailbox. The label said they’re “vincas.” (Not to be confused with ancient native Peruvians with a similar name.) I even planted them in special, high-potency soil. The flowers did grow rapidly and adorned the front yard.

Then summer came, with high temperatures and little rain. Safeguarding my botanical investment, I went out at least every other day to water the flowers. Every time I pulled into our driveway, I felt sorry for the little fellers, panting and chlorophyll-tinted tongues hanging out due to thirst. I had to give them a drink once in awhile.

Our little green friends’ plight reminded me of a couple of passages in the Bible. In the Beatitudes, Jesus stated, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Matthew 5:6). In the Psalms, King David had written about himself in similar terms: “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you, my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1).

Do I really thirst for God, for His righteousness? Maybe that’s the problem with Christian America. We’ve become absorbed into the culture, opting for a convenient, comfortable God – not one that has us desperately thirsting for Him, as one thirsts after mowing a lawn on a hot summer day.

As Patrick Morley wrote in his book, The Man in the Mirror, we have settled for the God we want, not the God who is. Maybe once we work up a thirst for God, as described in the Scriptures, we can again serve as salt and light in this “dry and weary land where there is no water.”

Back to the Bookshelf

This summer I’m returning to a first love: Reading books. As a boy I always had my nose in a book; that continued well into adulthood. But in recent years, my time with books has diminished dramatically. I’m aiming to change that, at least for a few months.

I used to read 30-40 books a year. Now I struggle to get through a dozen. I read a lot via the Internet and e-mail, of course, but it’s not the same. To me, reading a book is similar to nurturing a relationship. It demands commitment and hours of dedicated attention. Holding a book is tangible, organic; the texture of the paper under my fingertips, the rustle of the pages as they turn.

Reading also requires giving something of myself, unlike passively watching a TV program or even browsing Internet sites. In reading a good book, fiction or non-fiction, I eagerly anticipate what a turn of the page might present – new information to learn, a new adventure to experience. Finishing the last page is like bidding farewell to a good friend.

One reason for my recaptured zeal is that my favorite TV shows are on hiatus. “House,” “Bones,” “Grey’s Anatomy” and “The Mentalist” are taking a break, a respite they and I both need. I have temporarily escaped TV’s gravitational field.

There is no biblical mandate to read books, although we are exhorted to study and meditate on God’s Word. But the apostle Paul indicates he was an avid reader, writing in 2 Timothy 4:13, “When you come, bring…my scrolls, especially the parchments.”

I’m off to a good start. Already I have finished two books and am well into two others. More volumes near my desk seem to beg, “Read me!” I intend to appease some of them during the next weeks.