My Soul Thirsts for You

By Dr. Filippa Duke

O God, you are my God, I seek you,

my soul thirsts for you;

my flesh faints for you,

as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

When I read the psalmist’s words, I am struck by how viscerally alive he—and his soul!—are. His need to encounter something holy is as present and pressing as any physical need. This hunger for something beyond oneself is apparent all around us today! We cannot escape the very things that make us human: our thirst, our appetite, our weariness, and our daily routines. But at every turn, these all cry out for the Divine. Surely, the psalmist tells us, we need to attend to the needs of our soul as much as we take care of our physical needs. 

And yet—so often we don’t answer either of these cries. We ignore our bodies cry for rest in the same way that we continue scrolling through infinite screens—a cheap imitation of mental “down time”. Our hunger and thirst for quality foods, thoughtfully prepared and shared in community is sacrificed at the altar of “convenience.” Space for things that give us real joy and connection is shoved aside in the busyness of daily life. Our soul and our bodies are tired, lonely, and simultaneously empty and overwhelmed. 

What would it be like to have our lips—and our hearts—satisfied, as  from a feast? Do we dare hope this Lent to ‘wake up’? To become ‘alive’ as we are exhorted in the letter to the churches in Sardis? To know in our souls the wisdom that causes us to shine like stars, guiding others as a beacon of light? 

This Lent, it is my desire to find practices to integrate to both the physical needs of my body and the spiritual needs of my soul. I wonder, What will distract us from caring for our soul? What will numb us to the needs of others? What will keep us asleep—or spiritually dead? 

May we all have the courage to ask these questions, to hear these answers, and then, to wake up.