Death of a Plant.

Just got home from two and a half weeks of traveling, encompassing four states, three regions of the country, multiple modes of transportation, five different overnight locations, including one airport bench, many giggles, too many memories to count, and far too many clothes wrinkled from suitcase dwelling for too long. Must say, it's good to be home again, even though I wish I could be in multiple places simultaneously.

At any rate, I returned home earlier this week to find my plant-that-never-dies completely withered and dried up. Thus far, I have been unable to resurrect it. KG, the plant killer, strikes again. I suppose 2.5 weeks of no water, no light, and no love will do almost anything in, no matter how tough, weathered, or indestructible it might be.

I'm holding out some hope that it might rise again, because the roots still seem strong. But at the moment, it is deader than the lab rats that one of my mentors may or may not have baptized in liquid nitrogen and then thrown against a brick wall. Kaputz.

So why do I share this? What's the take-home?

There are parts of us that are incredibly strong. Parts of me that are incredibly strong. And often times, not always, but often, those parts are strong because they've had to be. They've seen abuse, neglect, absence, hardship, etc. They have not been sufficiently watered. And so they survive. Often times for years on end. Out of necessity, they are hardened, weather-worn, survivors who can endure, often times without appearing even to be fazed.

But life without water is no way to live. It is no life at all. And eventually those parts of you, those parts of me, like my plant, will wither and die unless healing actually happens.

Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." [john 4:13-14]

I don't know about you, but I desperately want those "strong" parts softened in living water. What does that look like? I don't know. But I know that I need it... and I know that it will require changing mode of operation, vulnerability, lots of care and intentionality, and some hard re-programming.

But life without water is no way to live.