Ex. 17:3-7, Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9, Rom. 5:1-2, 5-8,
John 4:5-4

“Why did you ever make us leave Egypt” (Ex 17:3) is an extremely loaded complaint from Israel in the first reading this week. God’s people, recently delivered from a brutal lifetime of slavery in Egypt, now find themselves in a tough situation and cannot get out of their own way. They are tired, worried and scared; unsure where they are going or even how they will get water. What is wild is how their first reaction when things get difficult is to turn away from God, their rescuer, back towards that which enslaved them. When things got tough, Israel just wants to forget about God’s plan for them and regress.

I flew over and through the desert of Israel’s Exodus and, honestly, their fears were valid. Much of it looks the same as the Old Testament describes, miles and miles of sand and heat that would put a Texas July to shame. Now, when I read about Israel’s struggle, I really start to identify with them. Maybe not in the literal sense, but I remember the metaphorical deserts where I felt lost and abandoned throughout my faith journey. At its worst, I was just like the Israelites; I was losing my faith in God’s plan and wanted to get back “in control” of my life to make it what I wanted.

It was college that brought me fully into my own desert. God gifted me the opportunity to go to my dream university, but well into it I became homesick and jealous of my friends who seemed to be having a lot more fun and a lot easier time that I was a thousand miles away. I tried shoehorning what I thought their lives were into my own, but only ever came up short and disappointed. This disappointment grew into resentment, I started asking God why He wouldn’t give me this happiness that I demanded as if it was His fault I missed out on some better life. I wanted to turn around, I wanted to go back to my own Egypt.

What I love about the first reading and the gospel for this week is this grace of water that comes to those who seem least deserving of it. The Israelites, on the verge of revolt, receive the miracle of water from the rock at Massah and the woman at the well, a Samaritan and sinner, receives Christ the living water. God reminds both sets of people of His providence and plan by gifting them that which they could not make themselves, by gifting them life.

God’s lifegiving water in my life came at a time when I least expected and definitely did not feel deserving of it. After straying from the Church, my own rock of Massah appeared in the form of a parish I found (or really found me) only by chance. Bri, who is now my wife, was willing to try out this church on one of our first dates and a group of members welcomed her in with open arms. They had her through the RCIA program at a speed only God could keep up with. That time in my life really showed me how God laughs at what I think is best for myself and tells me, “Don’t forget, you are my child and I have a plan for you.”

We may never fully understand God’s plan for us and, in the middle of our worst deserts, this is extremely difficult to cope with. But going back to Egypt is never an option, not for God’s children. God calls us to remember this identity and look for that lifegiving water, whatever it may be, that He bestows on each one of us. If this Lenten season you find yourself in that desert, dying of thirst and wanting a way out, please first and foremost be assured that our prayers are with you. Second, know that God’s water for you is immanent. Keep the faith and remember that you are God’s child, and with that identity comes assurance of His plan for you, always.

God Bless.