Reservoirs

A hundred years ago, my area was a desolate scrubland of rocks and sagebrush. Today, orchards and other crops thrive amidst a crisscrossing of irrigation canals or pipes. They, in turn, are fed by a vast system of reservoirs. Seeing these reminds me of an ancient quote by Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153): “If then you are wise, you will show yourself to be a reservoir than as a canal. For a canal spreads abroad water as it receives it, but a reservoir waits until it is filled before overflowing, and thus communicates, without loss to itself, its superabundant water. In the Church at the present day, we have many canals, few reservoirs.”(1)

In other words, the church has a lot of people with shallow, quick answers. But without input from the true Source, they run dry. They need the instruction and encouragement that comes from “reservoir” believers of depth and regular replenishment.

Bible-times people would have understood the reservoir analogy. Their arid climate had only two annual rainy seasons, May and October. To store that precious water, people built reservoirs and underground stone cisterns. One of my Bible reference books shows a photo of three large reservoirs, called “Solomon’s Pools,” a couple miles south of Bethlehem, supplying Old Jerusalem. Pine trees and palms surrounded the still waters.

The continual come-and-go of water keeps reservoirs from becoming stagnant, like swamps. By analogy, when there’s no giving-out of ourselves, we become foul spiritual swamps.

How do more mature believers become reservoirs to nurture others? One insight comes from Marva J. Dawn in her book, To Walk and Not Faint (Eerdmans, pp. 67-68). Drawing from analogies in Psalm 23, she wrote: “With what variety and thoroughness the Lord provides so that his people are fed. He nurtures us through the disciplines of our own devotional times and private meditations. He propels us by means of teachers and preachers and practitioners of His Word. He sustains us through the vitality of Christian communities and assemblies of believers. He nourishes us through music. He uplifts us with breathtaking sunsets and the myriad hues of flowers. Truly, the Lord, our shepherd, endows us so that we shall not want.”

How might you describe your spiritual “water” condition? Dry with faithlessness? Stagnant like a swamp? Quickly emptied, like a canal? Or continually replenished while giving out, like a reservoir? To such “giving out” people I owe a great debt for the spiritual nurture I’ve received over many years.

For all of us, that invitation remains: “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters” (Isaiah 55:1).


(1) Quoted in Richard Foster,Prayer: Find ing the Heart’s True Home (New York: Harper/SanFrancisco, 1992), p. 168.

Thirsty

Close to the middle of this photo are deer drinking in the river.

“I see some deer,” my husband exclaimed as he pulled our car off the canyon road. We were about 80 miles from home, enjoying the autumn colors on a lesser-traveled road. Climbing over a guard rail, we stood on a ledge hundreds of feet away from four deer drinking the chilly river water. They soon detected human presence, and bounded back up the hill into their hiding places.

The opening words to Psalm 42 came to mind: “As the deer pants for streams of waters, so my soul pants for you, O God.” I recalled explaining that psalm to a group of women years ago. One, her face chiseled by her hard life before she came to Christ, said, “I can relate to thirsting for God.”

The Hebrew word that we translate “pant” is arag and this is its only use in the Bible. It also means “to long for.” I can understand the thirst and panting that compels an animal to find water. I once had two fawns in my house (aka long-legged young teens) who became substitute paper carriers for a huge route serving more than a hundred customers. Of course, it was summer’s most blistering week and Mom had to come along as driver. I made sure we all filled our water bottles before going to the paper drop-off point, where we sat in the meager shade outside the car. Unfortunately, that was next to the locked-up swimming pool of a manufactured home community. I shot a mom’s glance that said, “Don’t even think about climbing the fence for a few cannonballs while we wait.”

After an hour, the water bottles were drained and my fawns were gasping, “I’m d-y-i-n-g” (which made me think of a cowboy song that includes a lot of yippee-yi-yoos). Finally, I decided to drive us home to refill the water bottles and call the newspaper about our tardy delivery. “Sorry, the press broke down,” the harried circulation assistant said. “I don’t know when your bundles will be delivered. You’ll just have to stay at the dropoff point.” So back we went to wait. My two fawns were about to drop out of this. Yes, the papers did eventually come and we sweated through the route in record time. Home again, they collapsed with more long drinks of water...while I had to figure out dinner. (How about ice cube soup?)

Whether a blistering summer afternoon, or a chilly autumn morning, thirst is a normal part of our creation. It’s also a symbol of our longing to be refreshed and satisfied by the One who created us. That’s why, as we drove away from watching the deer, I thought of other scriptures that speak of spiritual thirst:
“He satisfies the thirsty.” (Psalm 107:9)
“Come, all you who are thirsty.” (Isaiah 55:1)
“If a man is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.” (John 7:37)
“Whoever is thirsty, let him come.” (Revelation 22:17)

We hear so much today about the “WWW,” the world-wide web. It precedes the internet addresses of sites like mine. But we also need to be life-long students of the Bible’s “world-wide word webs,” discovering how even single words in this God-inspired book are interconnected in amazing ways. When we arag after God—longing for, even panting for Him--He promises to satisfy that thirst in the deepest part of who we are.