Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.
i’m an isrealite wandering in the desert. you saved me from a life of slavery, and lord, i’m grateful. but i’m still not sure i can trust you yet. because in the past, you know i’ve been burned and you’re a pillar of fire. you can’t blame me for being nervous, right? its not that i’m ungrateful, its just that i don’t know. eden was a long time ago and frankly, i’ve forgotten how to garden. you might have to wait a while for this cynical heart to grow again.
but i’m beginning to see there might be something to this freedom thing you keep talking about. maybe canaan is waiting at the end of this desert road. and if so, i want to get there some day. you know i’m longing for that promised land. but this desert is hiding wells and that makes it beautiful. i’m enjoying the mystery and the surprise. a green lush garden is lovely but have you seen the sunrise over the sand dunes? i can’t speak for the manna or the milk, but you’ve brought a lot of honey into my life lately. and i sure as hell won’t complain.