Birth

This is the first of what I hope will be many opportunities for thought-provoking interaction and discoveries. The term Heart Quencher follows my mind's predecessor, Famished Heart. There was a time I suffered from a famished heart and longed for refreshment, cool aid, and comfort. In the time since I have held on to the desire to extend grace to those who experience that same drought; the tight, searing pain that clutches itself, creating rifts and cracks that separate rather than unite. There is a hopelessness there; a loss of purpose, of joy, and of dignity. And so, rather than dwell on the haggard, gaunt emptiness of the heart's eye, I have chosen to offer words of salve and refreshment, words of coolness in rushing rivulets, words of peaceful surrender and indescribable joy.



Having made such a flowery, ambiguous introduction, the next words that come to mind are, "For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not" (Romans 7:18). Regardless of my presentation, it is true that there is no hope, no joy, no good thing I have to offer in and of myself. The only truth and hope is found in Jesus Christ, God's only Son. And our realization of our need precedes even our comprehension of His goodness.



If you find yourself in despair, in need of refreshment, in need of quenching, know that you are very near the One you seek. For it is "in dying that we are born to eternal life." If you are at the end, know that God offers an incredible beginning. The death St. Francis speaks of is not one of physical cessation, but a death to self-striving, self-glorification, to having my own way. It is only when I come to the end of myself that I am able to look up and see Jesus, the One who purposefully paid the penalty for my disobedience and rebellion before a holy, almighty God. In all things, at all times, I deserve nothing less than to be separated from such a God. But in love, He made provision for forgiveness--and that is where true refreshment begins.



To be renewed, refreshed, is to know that I have no value outside of God Himself--and yet He loves me completely, eternally, totally, without reservation. His love for me is undeserved, without obligation, and absolutely free. He smothers me with love, with grace, with peace, with kindness and gentleness. And I am new. What is it about God that refreshes you? How do you find that renewal and peace when your circumstances are empty, toilsome?