Jul 3 2021 Day 136 Psalms 60:1–63:11

O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.


This morning, it’s a balmy 62 degrees, a normal Portland July morning temperature. This past week, the Pacific Northwest experienced a record breaking heat wave. For three days, temperatures neared 115. We are not equipped for that kind of heat; air conditioning systems here were designed to cool homes about 15 degrees, which would comfortably cover normal heat waves of 90 degrees. At 115 degrees, our house was ‘cooled’ to an uncomfortable 95 degrees plus. The second floor of our home was unbearable for everything except one session of ‘hot yoga’ I sweat through.

Over 45 people died during this three day heat wave in Portland alone, all from hyperthermia. People without any place to be cool – those in hot homes or no homes. It was actually frightening.

I was unbearably thirsty during the heat and for the rest of the week. I craved water more than I ever have. We’d be out running an errand and I felt like I had to stop for water. I’d down the 16 oz bottle in one long draw. Aah. I have never experienced thirst like that, constant and all-consuming.

As a result of this week’s heat and my thirst, I have a better appreciation of this sentiment – O God, my soul thirsts for you, as in a dry land where there is no water. I can understand that analogy, as I had that kind of thirst this week. To be honest, I have never had that same urging or drive for God

I once described my relationship to God as something like an old married couple – rock solid, content but lacking the fireworks of young romance. Maybe my lack of thirst is because I’m old and content. Another option is that I have a sense of God’s abundant presence, so I don’t thirst for it. Continuing with the weather analogies, we in the Northwest don’t dream about water during our long wet 8 months. It’s actually hard for me to drink enough water, when we’re surrounded by rain and dampness. I definitely don’t thirst.

I do know what that sense of deep thirst is, but only relating to actual water. If I did lose that sense of God’s presence I can imagine I’d thirst for God. For now, I’m grateful I live in the rainy northwest with an abundance of water, and an equal abundance of God-given God-awareness.