My husband loves water features in our backyard. We have a cherub that pours from an urn, a Roman maiden who tilts a pitcher, and a trio of cherubs who support a tulip-shaped waterfall on their shoulders. The burbling of the water is a peaceful caress against the backdrop of busy streets and noisy cars.
With the hot summer days we’ve recently experienced, the water draws creatures from around the neighborhood—cats, birds, raccoons, and squirrels. Each one has its favorite drinking spot.
One recent afternoon, I was working in my kitchen when I noticed a flock of finches, about eight in all, flutter into the nook where the cherub resides. Their golden bodies perched on fronds of ferns and bleeding hearts while each finch, in succession, partook of the water. I watched, fascinated, as the tiny birds waited for each other to take a turn resting on the urn, or landing on the rock below where the bird could bathe in the fountain’s splash. The cherub served as usher, and the tiny voices of the finches performed like a choir, the gentle tinkling of sound a heavenly symphony in the quiet afternoon.
Then, as if summoned by an unseen voice from above, they lifted in unison, flying up over the masonry wall and disappearing from sight, their mission accomplished, their thirst satisfied. I marveled at the precision of their flight—their journey calculated, their quest certain—hoping they might visit again.
In the book of John, Jesus said to the Samaritan woman that whoever drank of the water she drew from the well would thirst again. But he declared he had something better. John 4:14 (NKJV) “But whoever drinks of the water I shall give him will never thirst. But the water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.”
The woman answered Jesus, saying she wished for the water he offered. May you also find the water that will satisfy your soul, and not just your thirst.
See you next week, Pat