I don't know why God puts up with me. Does He watch me incredulously, tiredly, or with sad, knowing eyes...and a shaking of His head. "Oh dear, daughter, dear dear daughter....."
Like Martha, you are worried about many things, when only one thing is needed.
I stumble over my own feet grabbing fists full of sand to try to satisfy my thirst...when I know, I KNOW, by head, by heart, by experience, where the living water is. I have tasted it. It's right there. Pick up the ol tin cup and DRINK and drop that shovel of sand!
And then see, if you quit trying to swallow sand, how less cantakerous you might me.
Dumb dumb. and bit in a funk.
sigh.....
God, you have eternal life, now and forever more. Forgive my sand scooping ways, I need a drink.
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