Christian

#11 "Eternal fount"

But whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst. But the water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life
(John 4:14)

If I had the strength or if I hadn't injured myself so badly or if my thirst, now, hadn't reached the point of my life being on the line, I would have run away from Police. I felt perhaps God had changed his mind about punishing me through the angry mob and had thought punishing me through the torture of a Police would be better, so as not to come out as a God who derived pleasure in doing wicked.

But I had learnt that God never changed. That everything about Him - mind and being - remains the same. I was having a hard time believing that because Police had crouched down before weak me and was staring intently into my eyes with no expression on his young and handsome face, as if he was irritated by me, a thief. And a murderer.

When the reminder that I was more than just a thief crossed my mind, I began to pant silently but rapidly, afraid once again. With the way he was staring at me, could he tell that I had killed before I stole? If he found out, was I safe or not? Would he put me in prison? Did Rex send him after me? I tried to pick myself up but he sharply held my shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, harshly.

I widened my eyes at him, fear written on my face. My poor heart began to beat hard against its cage of bones designed for its protection.

"Calm down!" he whispered.

And smiled.

It was a smile of hope. I was getting sure that I was safe.

"Come" he ordered, getting on his feet and then stretched his hand to me, "Let me dress your wounds"

I looked at his outstretched hand. The picture was how I pictured Peter and John with that lame man at the beautiful gate or Paul and Silas with that guard as a christian child. I reached for his hands. He pulled me up. He put me on his shoulders and took me to his house.

He had a posh mini flat and he was living alone.

"Did you need food or water before you came to the market?" he asked as he dressed my wounds.

"Water" I replied feebly.

He went to his fridge and got me cold sachet water. The way and manner I jumped at the sachet water, one would think it was all I needed to survive. Well, at that moment, it was. Even Police knew.

"How thirsty are you?" he laughed as he got me two more.

I ate them up!

"What's your name?" Police asked me.

Though the water had begun to give me strength, I still spoke meekly.

"Christian"

"Christian?" he intoned.

It took him time to speak again. He was probably why a Christian bearing Christian would be caught stealing because he was thirsty, I concluded.

"Yes" I broke the silence.

"You really were thirsty" he said pitiably.

The pity in his voice made me feel sad and ashamed. He noticed that I was sad and ashamed.

"Don't feel ashamed!" he pleaded, "Do you want to drink the Living Water?"

I knew that the Living Water Police was talking about was a person. That it was Jesus. If the Living Water was Jesus, then the Living Water was the Son of God. The God that wanted to purge the world of a sinner like me.

Did I still qualify to drink Him? I asked myself.

"Anyone can drink from Him" Police's small news of hope entered my ears.

Our being sin is the thirst of our soul. Only the Fountain of Life can quench it. Think about it.
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