It is a challenge for me to read the ancient Hebrew poem written by Job. His book/poem, known by his name, Job, is a 42 chapter treatise on suffering. Though it can feel so burdensome to my soul to consider all the sorrow written in his poem, I can find exquisite imagery on the pages. In chapter 14 Job writes:
“For there is hope for a tree, when it is cut down, that it will sprout again, and its shoots will not fail though its roots grow old in the ground and its stump dries in the dry soil. At the scent of water it will flourish and put forth sprigs like a plant.”
I love the phrase, “scent of water.” It evokes a sharpening of my senses, an anticipation of cool water to refresh my weariness; and aren’t we all weary and worn! In my failings and feebleness, I feel like the woman at the well, so thirsty and desperately needing the taste of living water. In the heat of the day this is where I find Jesus, and He offers me not only the scent of water, but a long, cool drink of His living water to slake my dehydrated soul. He invites us to always come and drink.