Thirsty

It's because I don't like it, that I want.

Because it is mundane. Boring.

There is nothing creative to be found in sweeping.

I have clung, oh these long years, to what spurs me.

I have sought only to be inspired.

For the next project. The next words to write.

It is such a barren place.

A place that spurns creativity.

This goes against my nature, who I am.

I find that I am thirsty.

I thirst for Him, as in a dry land.

I long to find satisfaction.

That is not found in the sweep.

I long for Him.

I long.

And then I awaken.

Realizing all the ways I have spurned.

Opportunities to thirst.

For Him.

And I am ashamed, by such lack.

Humbly I come.

Cup in hand.

Please, Lord. Won't You fill it?

Fill me?

I am so thirsty.

“O God, You are my God, earnestly I seek You;

my soul thirsts for You,

my body longs for Your

in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” Psalm 63:1