A few days ago, when I blamed blogging on my bladder, I received this comment:
lol found you on Blogher and I came here thinking you were gonna blame blogging for a weak bladder LOL…for me…I am like a camel, I will put off going pee until I “just finish this last little paragraph…” hahahahaha great post.
It got me thinking—about a number of things. One is that a camel has a huge lump where it stores all that water, and I surely wouldn’t want that. (Then I did a little research and found that a camel’s hump is really fat tissue stored in one place rather than providing the insulating effect of spreading the “wealth” of fat throughout its body as most mammals do; it is highly efficient at storing and using water and can go for months without drinking and has urine like syrup.) I don’t want to be a camel.
But Cheri’s comment (and NaBloPoMo, actually) made me think of my spiritual life—and my camel tendencies there. Before NaBloPoMo, I noticed that while I tried to have a daily quiet time with God, I often “got it done” and then went on with the day. But when I was preparing my weekly blog post, I definitely took more time to reflect, absorb what God was saying to me, consider what actions I should be taking, and, generally enjoyed being a Christian a whole lot more—and gave myself permission to write. It was my big dose of Living Water for the week, while the weekdays tended to be mere sips.
While not every blog post for NaBloPoMo, or even Sound Off, is a spiritual reflection, it has required me to be more reflective, more purposeful and thoughtful in hearing God speak to me throughout my day (even if it is simply a blog blaming my bladder). Being challenged to write daily has been a challenge to more fully embrace the life God intended—living daily in His presence, indwelt by His Holy Spirit, and delving into his Word with purpose and delight.
This summer, while in my gardening mode, I began to notice a fern surrounding the base of an old oak in my yard. It was delightfully green and alive and, I thought, added some character to the trunk. After a few days of no rain and heat, I noticed the fern had died—or so it appeared. It was shriveled, dried, and brown. But to my surprise, almost immediately after the next rain, the fern was as lush as ever. I sought the next period of drought and storm to shoot photos of the plant (above) for it seemed a constant reminder of my need for daily doses of Living Water.
I am like that Samaritan woman at the well, to whom Jesus said, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:13-14). Note that he did not say those who drink will never need to drink again—instead, the water He gives becomes like a spring inside them.
Bladder beware! I am no camel.
All Things Work Together 