My plants are trying a new tactic to get my attention: falling over. I have moved them to the Intensive Care Unit of our home (back porch) onto a small table where they will receive round-the-clock fresh air and more constant sunlight. I don’t know if one is supposed to do this, but it takes away the guilt of seeing them die inside.

So, when I saw one on the ground this morning, I was perplexed and alarmed. Suppose someone had walked through our yard in the dark of night and tipped over the plant to get my attention. Perhaps he is still lurking out there, just waiting for me to retrieve it! No. Maybe a cat stalked the porch, jumped onto the table, and knocked it off. Hm-m…possibly. Perchance the plant was So Dry that it blew off in the wind that we had last night. Yep—most likely.

Could it be time to water, I considered? Then, before I could apply first-aid to my flora, the Lord put a reminder in my head: this is me when I’m not daily soaked in His Word. (Yes, I know that plants aren’t watered daily, so this is where the analogy breaks down). My heart feels withered and tired, and I can be swept off my spiritual feet by any wind that comes along. More set-backs and damage can occur during those dry times than with the upsetting of a small plastic pot. Even when writing, my thoughts and ideas come after being saturated by Scripture. Thankfully, my thirst and exhaustion can never drain the overflowing Source of water, my Well of Salvation.

Isaiah 12:3