We will all find ourselves in the position of the psalmist at some point: desperately thirsty, cut off from the source of life. Each of us will come to a place of feeling lost, of feeling far from the Lord.
Does our soul pant for God in the same way that a dog that has been playing outside on a hot summer day pants for a bowl of cold water? Do we really long for fellowship with God? Or do we just take a sip as we pass by out of habit, rather than because we are really thirsty?
The thirst here is for nothing in a jug, for something a whole lot more than lemonade. The thirst here is for living water in the parched soul of someone who’s wandering in a desert where there’s nothing more than hot sand.