living water

Lord,

You have created another refreshing rainy day outside, but inside my heart is gray and weary. I greet the day again feeling overwhelmed, sunken in a pit of anxiety and despair. I look to my friends, but they simply shrug their shoulders and tell me to learn to do the same. I am told I let too much get to me, that everything is fine, that I just need to relax, as if it were so simple as sitting down or taking a nap. But Father, for me, it is not simple. It is very complex. It is also quite difficult. The inner workings of my head and heart are too much for even me to understand. In this elaborate labyrinth of trepidation and trembling I am forever finding towering walls and laughing dead ends. As I stare day after day at these dark looming walls I can hear Solomon whispering in my ear that yes, it truly is all vanity and vexation of spirit. Yet, since it is all inside of me, no one but you and I can truly see the struggle, the grueling hunt for freedom in all it's endless intensity. I find tastes of your peace in prayer and in your word along the way, but so often they seem a trickling fountain and not a swelling oasis. They satisfy the depths of me, but only for a moment, and then again I am parched for your living water. Where, Father? How, Jesus? How do I be filled with your living water all the time? You have promised that once I drink from you, I will never thirst again. But Lord, I do thirst. I thirst all the more! I have only come to know my thirst so well it seems alive in itself. Perhaps this is what you mean? Not that after one drink my thirst will be forever absolved, but instead that I will not thirst anymore because when I do, you will always be there to quench it? So show me, Lord, show me how to let you quench my thirst. I am so thirsty. I need your living water. I am dying without it.