Picture: Living water from the hands of God

This morning I walked into the sanctuary, and the heaviness I felt as I entered was too great to stand. During the praise and worship time, I made my way up to the altar, where I rested my head on the wooden ledge and allowed the choir’s worship and the Lord to wash over me. And as my head rested on the cool surface of the altar, it soften and I saw myself instead with my head against the Savior’s knee. And as I sat, still at His feet with my hands folded in my lap, water poured down on me. I looked, but there was no pitcher or vessel. Instead, it streamed in a continuous, un-ending flow from His hands. It washed over me, restoring my peace, and pooled on the floor below me.

I tried to create a glimpse of what I saw. Alas, my artistic abilities fall so very short, but perhaps your mind can fill in the details of my simple expression: