Thirst feels like your mouth and throat are made of cardboard. Can’t think of anything else but to get massive amounts of H2O down your gullet. Coming back from many hours roaming the streets of the Jordanian ancient city of Petra, we’re parched and dry as dust much like the long-abandoned metropolis itself. Didn’t help one bit that the outdoor temperature climbs past 120 degrees.

Arriving at a local hotel for a late lunch, we gulp down what seems like gallons of cold, clean bottled ice water. Returning to our cruise ship, we dive into a huge bucket of the same. Finally, a liquid equilibrium has been reached. Dehydration banished.

From this experience, we feel for our Savior, dying on the cross, crying out ‘…I thirst’ (John 19:28). What liquid is given Him? Sour wine, dripping from a sponge affixed to a hyssop branch, shoved right at His mouth. He takes none of it. The end approaches. More like the final straw. He bows His head and gives up His life. Jesus dies.

But something else unsettles me. I wonder if our Lord, in some ways, is still thirsty. Not in heaven. Not with the Father, the Holy Spirit, angels, and His saints from all the ages. Not there or with them.

No, I’m thinking about something else. About His thirst for a closer walk with me and thee. Yearning to hear more prayers from my heart to His. Craving to see countless people raise their hands to Him for forgiveness and salvation. Hankering to have me cuddle up a little closer, trusting that He still knows best. Longing for me to look forward to all the blessings He has in His mansions over the hilltop. Those kinds of thirsting.

So, what can we give Him? To satisfy Him To quench His thirst. To please Him, for a change. Any ideas?

Lord Jesus, I want to please you. To be your friend and follower. For your sake. Amen.