The Bitter Water and the Tree

Three days past the sea, the song had gone dry.

Only three days before, on the far shore, Miriam had shaken her tambourine and all the people had danced and sung to the God who saved them. But now they were deep in the desert, away from Egypt, away from chains. The sun was hot, and the sand went on and on, and there was no water anywhere.

Their lips cracked. Their tongues felt like dust. The little ones cried, and there was nothing their mothers could give them.

Then, far ahead, somebody shouted. "Water! Water!"

Oh, how they ran. They could see it shining. A pool, cool and waiting. They fell on their knees at the edge and cupped their hands and lifted the water to their mouths and drank.

And then they spat it out.

The water was bitter. So bitter it stung. They had run all that way, and what they found tasted of sorrow.

The people groaned. They turned on Moses. "What are we supposed to drink?"

Moses did not shout back at them. He cried out to God. He carried the people's thirst, all of it, straight to the One who loved them.

And God did not scold him. God showed him a tree.

God told Moses to take that tree and throw it down into the bitter pool.

So he did. He lifted the wood and threw it in.

And the water changed. It was the same pool in the same desert, but now when they drank, it was sweet. Cool and good and clean. The children drank until their cheeks were wet and laughing. A tree had gone down into the bitterness, and the bitterness became something you could live on.

God did not lead them around the bitter water. He led them right to it. And then he made it sweet.

Then he took them a little farther, to a place called Elim, where twelve springs bubbled up and seventy palm trees made shade. And there they rested. He is like that. He brings you through the bitter place, and he has a resting place waiting on the other side.

But hold on to that tree.

Because one day, far down the road, there would be another tree. Not a branch thrown into a pool, but a cross lifted on a hill. And on it would hang the One who loved these thirsty people, and you, more than your heart can hold. He would go down into all the bitterness, every tear, every broken promise, and take it into himself.

And to this day, whoever comes to him thirsty, and drinks, finds the water sweet.