Are You Thirsty for God?

When it comes to your relationship with God, do you ever feel you’re just going through the motions — talking about things you’re not experiencing, manufacturing emotions you’re not actually feeling, pretending to care when you really don’t care? Do you ever feel you’re rushing from one thing to the next without taking the time to really pay attention to what’s going on inside you or around you? Are you tired, not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally? Are you aware of an underlying irritability and restlessness? Are you emotionally numb, unable to experience a full range of human emotions? Do you give in to escapist behaviors like eating, mindless television watching, substance abuse, shopping or escapist fantasies, dreaming about being somewhere else or having a different life? If all the noise is in the shallow end of the pool and most of the wisdom is found in deeper waters, it really comes down to desire, to the longing of your heart. Are you thirsty for more of God?

In Psalm 63:1, David wrote, "O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water."

The description of this Psalm reads, “A Psalm of David. When he was in the desert of Judah.” Many scholars believe King David wrote this Psalm when he was fleeing from his son, Absalom. The story is recorded in 2 Samuel. David’s son, Absalom, had instigated a coup to overthrow his father and steal the throne. In order to escape with his life, King David, along with his closest allies, fled into the Judean wilderness southeast of Jerusalem.

There are very few places on earth that are more desolate than the land southeast of Jerusalem, near the Dead Sea. The mountains are bare. There are no pools, streams, or brooks running through the valley. It’s what you might call a wasteland. Nothing but dry ravines and bright, blazing sunshine. David calls this place “a dry and weary land.” It becomes a metaphor for what was going on in David’s heart. David is saying: “Lord, my soul is parched. I’m spiritually exhausted. There’s a wilderness inside me. I’m dry as dust, dying of thirst for you, O God.” Have you ever felt that way? Are you aware of the condition of your heart?

Most of us live at a pretty low level of spiritual experience. Our connection to God is closer to familiarity than intimacy. And for most of us, that low level of intimacy is tolerable. We’re not happy with it. We can’t say we’re entirely satisfied. But there are a million other diversions, things that consume our attention — noise, clutter, demands on our time — so it’s okay, we tell ourselves, for us to drift spiritually, going from week to week where our only real contact with God is in church on Sunday or maybe a quick prayer thrown up here or there. It’s okay…until it’s not.

Psalm 63:1 applies to every single man, woman, and child, without exception. The truth is…

Everyone on earth is thirsty for God

This universal thirst for God is found in the most successful people and in people who’re living hand to mouth. It’s found in downtown offices and truck stops. It’s found among doctors, lawyers and CEOs and among strippers, bouncers and the chronically unemployed. Every man, woman and child on earth thirsts for God. But...

Not everyone knows that their thirst is for God

Many are not conscious of the fact that what they thirst for is a deep connection and friendship with God. Instead, they’re conscious of other, lesser desires. For example, you may feel a sense of remorse over something you should’ve done. It nags at you. You’d like to get rid of the regret, but you don’t associate that desire with a deeper need for God. Or you may feel anxious because your child is making terrible decisions. You’re aware of the anxiety. What you’re not aware of is that your anxiety is simply the tip of the iceberg. Under the surface, and often apart from your consciousness, there’s a far deeper hunger and thirst for God, but you may only be aware of your anxiety or some lesser desire.

Sixty years ago, young people talked about just wanting sex, drugs and rock and roll. Now the same people who just wanted sex, drugs, and rock and roll want a pension, a Porsche, and a place at the beach. Again, most of us aren’t conscious that we’re dying of thirst for God. What we’re conscious of is other, lesser desires. We’re conscious of heartaches. We’re conscious of our dissatisfaction in other areas of life. Your search for love, satisfaction, comfort, respect or control simply reveals a deeper need in your life, a need for more connection, more friendship, for the deep, deep love of Jesus. So, what do we do with this nagging hunger and thirst for God?

Most of us try multiple substitutes to quench our thirst for God

We turn to cheap substitutes to try to satisfy the hunger in our souls, often with disastrous results. Do you remember the documentary Supersize Me? The filmmaker, Morgan Spurlock, interviewed experts in twenty cities on the causes of obesity. Two out of three American adults are overweight or obese. Thirty-seven percent of American children are overweight or obese. Spurlock talked to a variety of healthcare professionals and decided he would put his own body on the line by living on nothing but McDonald’s food for a month. Three meals a day, no exceptions. He also decided to supersize his meal every time they offered to do that for him.

In one month, he gained twenty-four pounds. His cholesterol went from a healthy one hundred sixty-five to a dangerous two hundred thirty. He got less than half the daily vitamins he needed and he strained his liver to where doctors feared for his life. Spurlock provides a wonderful spiritual metaphor for all of us who cannot feel our hunger pangs for God because we’re so stuffed by the overload of junk in our culture. Our lives and activity levels have been “super-sized.”

Dr. Richard Swenson wrote an interesting book for overloaded Americans called Margins. Swenson wrote: “We Americans continually live on overload.”

Activity overload. Booked up weeks in advance, we’re a busy people.

Choice overload. In 1978, there were eleven thousand items in the average supermarket. Now, the number is over twenty-five thousand.

Commitment Overload. We have more commitments than we have time. We take too many courses, volunteer for too many tasks, make too many appointments.

Decision Overload. Which soda? Which pizza topping? Which toothpaste?

Expectation Overload. The world should have no boundaries. If you dream it, you can do it.

Fatigue Overload. We’re tired. Our leisure time is exhausting. Our vacations are exhausting.

Not to mention information overload, media overload, debt overload, and possession overload.

How would you describe your life? Would you say it’s “super-sized” or “overloaded”? What are you using to quench your thirst for God? What changes are you willing to make to provide the margin you need to grow out of familiarity to intimacy?

Note: Strahan Coleman’s book, “Thirsting: Quenching Our Soul’s Deepest Desire,” is a helpful guide.