Saturday, April 9, 2011

quenched

Well...it's April!   I vaguely remember blogging in the ancient past, before weeks started to speed up like they were on a bet with the energizer bunny (oooh man I just made a corny blog joke.  What is this blog coming to??).    Well.  Let's begin.

I miss rain.  Torrential tropical downpours that give meaning to the word 'drenched.'  In Singapore, every single road, no matter how miniscule, had ditches along either side.  Major roads had twenty or forty foot chasms dividing their lanes.  If it were not for these drains, the city would be constantly flooded.

During downpours, the huge ditches would violently churn with yellowish water, tree branches, and whatever trash that immaculate Singapore could conjure.  During the rainy season, even the drains reached their limit and trash cans would slowly float down the street like congenial neighbors.

And you know what I miss about it the most?  It was WARM.  You could take a walk in the rain and get delightful soaked and never ever be chilly.  For the longest time I had no idea why Westerners would always link rain walks with catching colds.  Just like I never understood why those silly people would check the weather outside before getting dressed.  Now, with a couple of temperate seasons under my belt, I still haven't learned--if I decide it's the day for flip flops and a skirt, it will undoubtedly snow.  And hail.  And sleet.  (I live in Colorado.  enough said. :> ),

I love walking in the warm rain and getting so wet that it takes half a day to dry off.  Just like it's marvelous to soak in the sun so long that you feel your bone marrow sizzling.

QUENCHED.  I really like that word.  Partly because it starts with a 'q' and there aren't many like that.  At least in my vocabulary. :)  And it's an... onawanapeia.  I have no idea how to spell that!  It's when a word sounds like its meaning, like...  ok, I'm cheating and googling it.

Onomatopoeia (well, I was kind of close.  not at all.)--e.g. hiss, buzz.  They're fun.   I guess quenched isn't REALLY....that hard-to-spell word... but it is in my world.
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When is the last time you felt quenched, drenched to the utmost?  That's what tropical thunderstorms make me think of, when you're sure that even your muscles are filling up with water.  And that's how I feel in worship, in God's presence.  It is tricky though, because the more quenched in God I am, the deeper the ache grows for more.  This seems mean of God, frankly.

But I'm slowly learning that I must trust who God is (His goodness, that He IS LOVE) in order to walk through spiritual doorways.  Then that goodness will be apparent.   And He just adores that place when faith is not yet made sight--it is precious to Him.

God cares so much about how we love Him.  It's crazy.

He calls us out when we're lying helpless in our own blood (Ez. 16), loves us, gives us His love to love him, and then meticulously orchestrates circumstances to allow us to choose Him (and gives us the grace to do so).  And celebrates our feeble movements toward Him!  Maybe He just likes to party.  :)

And so the deeper ache is carving out more room for Him.  So we can truly be quenched.
Ach, it's late and I need to go to sleep.  I'll finish with poetry--first read this poem in one of Madeleine L'Engle's books, and loved it.  Had to look up 'replete', though (it roughly means 'full of').  There's some dispute over the authorship, but it's either Thomas Brown or Sir Thomas Browne.  Here you go:

If thou couldst empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the Ocean shelf,
And say — "This is not dead," —
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou,
And hast such shrewd activity,
That, when He comes, He says — "This is enow
Unto itself — 'Twere better let it be:
It is so small and full, there is no room for Me."