Life leaves us thirsty, longing for more.
And in the parched streets,
And arid busyness a single voice cries out,
‘Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,
Whether rich or poor,
Happy or sad,
Satisfied or frustrated,
Privileged or marginalised.
Young or old,
Wanted or unwanted,
Sick or healthy,
Full of faith or wrestling with doubt.’
Life leaves us thirsty, longing for more.
And in the parched streets,
And arid busyness a single voice cries out,
‘The water I give, will become a life-giving spring,
Welling up to eternal life.
Offering purpose, meaning, hope and direction.
So come to me and drink,
‘And from your being will flow rivers of living water,
Streaming out to those around.’
Whether rich or poor,
Happy or sad,
Satisfied or frustrated,
Privileged or marginalised.
Young or old,
Wanted or unwanted,
Sick or healthy,
Full of faith or wrestling with doubt.
Life leaves us thirsty, longing for more.
And in the parched streets,
And arid busyness a single voice cries out,
‘Come to me and drink.’
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