Living Water

It seems to me that whenever I think I've got a handle on things, I'm reminded of my own brokenness. My need for forgiveness. My need to learn how to seek reconciliation from others.

I've had some incredible Institute and Seminary teachers in my lifetime. There was one named Brother Richardson who, in every single class, without fail, would say "if I could get a tattoo, it would be 2 Nephi 11:4:"

Behold, my soul delighteth in proving unto my people

the truth of the coming of Christ; for, for this end hath the law of Moses

been given; and all things which have been given of God from the

beginning of the world, unto man, are the typifying of him.

I'm pretty sure that Brother Richardson hasn't ever and isn't ever going to get the tattoo. But the core message is that it is absolutely essential that we remember - all the time - and that a tattoo would potentially help him remember - that everything around us, all of creation, the ebb and flow of our lives, testifies of Christ, typifies Him and His expansive power, and reminds us of who we are to become. The world around me, the sunrise and the sunset, the dependence I have on the air I breathe and the water that comes out of my tap - serves to remind me of who I am to become.

I'm a constantly thirsty, dying, 99% parched Algerian trying to make my way across the Sahara until I remember that God is offering water and the cup is within my reach. The words of Christ and living prophets are the cool glass of water that save my suffering soul. 

God answers my thirst again and again. There are multiple springs of living water. One such spring is the pulpit in the Conference Center in Salt Lake City. A fountain of water that becomes a stream flowing through the rooftop garden even emerges directly above that pulpit because the words spoken there are so literally a fountain of living water.

I am broken. So broken. But my only hope is to keep drinking of the living water and to stop hiding inside the brokenness.

The Lord warned Israel, "For my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water"(Jeremiah 2:13).

If I forget Jesus Christ, then all I'm doing is carrying around broken pottery that the water has already leaked out of, pretending that I'm not thirsty.

Instead, I want to find true relief in His invitation:

"If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink." (John 7:37)

This week, I'm going to think of Brother Richardson, and I'm going to turn in my broken pottery for the Fountain that heals all wounds.