Sometimes the water from another’s Well might not be any colder, but it sure does taste better. . . .
Have you ever tasted it? Ever felt it go all the way down your throat into your stomach?
Jimmy Pettit was one of my friends. We lived a hundred miles away from each other, but not on weekends. On the weekends we both went to our summer camp grounds–our families had one room cabins with two bedrooms and a small bathroom. There were about 10 camps in all and his was just across the gravel road.
He was respite for me from my two brothers and my sister and I gave him a reprieve from his brother.
Buddies. . .Pals. . .Friends. . .Idiots. . . .
We’d swim, fish, hunt and hike together.
It was one, long, hot hike on a sunny morning that turned into an afternoon.
Instead of walking along the creek like we had done hundreds of times, we decided to go up unto the hills to do some exploring.
How thirsty have you ever been?
It wasn’t getting hungry that was the problem…it was the I-hope-I-see-an-oasis-mirage-before-I-blink-my-eyes-thirsty.
What I did see, was one of the best things I ever laid my eyes–even to this day:
An old fashion water pump
Seriously. . .you ever use one. . .have you actually ever drank from an old water pump?
H I N T :
It takes at least two to really get a drink from the old standing water pump out in the middle of nowhere on the edge of an unkept farm house.
It felt like my arm was going to fall off. I pumped and pumped and pumped and pumped and. . .
. . .and then it started coming out in a cold, long, wet stream. . .and it never stopped, as long as you would keep pumping.
I’ve often thought about that as a metaphor for my life
when I felt like giving up. . .
when I felt responsible for my grandfather’s death
when I had to miss a basketball season with bad knees
when I went away to school
when I got married a week out of college
when I went away to Seminary
when I became a dad
when I began at my first church
when I got divorced
when I ran 7 and a half marathons
when I got married again
when I became a hospice chaplain
when I self-published books
when I became a grandfather
when I became a professional speaker
when doors closed and windows wouldn’t open
when I. . .
I remember pumping water that day. . .I remember working hard to get the water to come up deep from that well and just when it didn’t seem like it was ever going to come out. . .there. . .there. . .it was.
I didn’t have to pump as hard after that, but I had to make sure, especially after all the hard work to get it flow, I didn’t want to stop. . .didn’t want to start all over again and I didn’t as long as I kept the long, steady stroke of bringing that glorious water forth.
Jimmy drank first from his cupped hands and then he let it pour over his head and finally laid upside down and let it pour into his mouth, his throat. . .
. . .and then. . .and then. . .it was my turn. I did the same thing. . .I drank and let the water run over my head and finally just laid underneath of it and let it fill up my mouth and run down my throat, too.
We took turns, getting drenched and drinking our fill, all the time, making sure the water wasn’t going to stop flowing;
The Secret:
We never stopped pumping. . .getting soak. . .drinking
The Lesson:
We needed each other to quench our thirsts. . .our truest Thirsts
The Hope:
We may all be Water Pumped
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