In the cave of my heart, there are jars.
Leaky, cracked, easily broken jars.
They don’t hold much water, and a lot of what is stored in them gradually seeps away.
But they hold enough. Enough to support life, even if not comfortably. Enough to prevent death, but not dehydration. Enough to quench thirst only briefly.
Sometimes, when love flows heavy in my life, they stay full… not because they are fixed, but because they are getting freshly filled to overflowing…. in those wonderful times when the flow is strong enough to drink directly from the flow of life.
And even after the flow has slowed to a trickle… for a while there is plenty. Enough to keep thirst away completely for a time.
But not for very long. Soon the supply has again dwindled, and again rationing rules over need.
Water is used, and water leaks, and water evaporates from the heat of life.
But still, enough remains in the jars to survive. I’m sometimes really surprised at how long into the future I can drink from a jar and live now from the overflow of way back when.
Sometimes I decide to sip of a jar filled long ago, and realize that the water it once held has now turned bitter. And too many times, I think it was probably bitter to start with. I just didn’t notice at the time because I was too consumed with excitement that there was a flow of water period.
Honestly… it’s a really ineffective and awful system. It works, but it doesn’t work well by any means.
Did I mention there’s also a spigot?
Oh yes, there’s a spigot of fresh water.
It’s supposed to supply ample water… enough to forever overflow… enough to fill not only my cave, but for me to be able to fill sturdy buckets to carry to those who have the same issues with their jar system.
I’m not even sure where the buckets are anymore.
And it’s just as well, because a good amount of time, I have trouble even getting the water running.
Sometimes it does, and it runs in a wonderful stream that drenches the place. The jars filled in this time are amazing, and seem at the time as if they’ll never leak.
And yet somehow, they always do. And somehow, the flow subsides.
I know the slow trickle is not a malfunction of the spigot… it has all the water pressure built up that it could ever need, and is creaking at the seams to be able to release it.
It’s probably just as sad as I am that I can’t ever seem to be able to get the valves to work right… to allow the release that lets water flood even the furthest places of my cave.
Sometimes the weak trickle frustrates me greatly.
Other times, well, oh well, I have jars.
Broken, leaky, sometimes bitter, ineffective, and rarely full enough to really quench jars.