Water: Part III: A Revelation
I remember as I grew up in the plains of Africa
the dry seasons would last so long.  
The days were hot, dust hung in the air.
The grasses were scorched--there was no green.

I remember as a boy beginning to see the coming of the rainy season.
The huge dark, black, thunder clouds would gather in the late afternoons
far to the north and east.
I could smell the rain coming.
Each day the huge storms would creep closer to our home.
And then, huge, enormous rain drops would fall.

The earth received each drop like a baby bird with open beak.
We would put out pans and bowls to catch the precious liquid.
Oh, what a joy it was to have water again.

And the storm would last for weeks....
I made the habit of going outside and walking in the puddles.
I splashed and danced and ran with ecstasy.
The grasses turned green....  
Flowers I had never seen sprung up overnight on the forest floor.
Birds sang.
What a joy it was to have water.
Everything came alive again!
The Story Continues....

The oldest son went to the sick King and begged to be allowed to go out and search for
the Water of Life.
"No," said the king, "the danger is  too great.  I would rather die."
The oldest son begged and pleaded until the king finally gave permission.
He thought to himself that if he could find the Water of Life
his father would love him the most and he would inherit the kingdom and be king.
The gates of the castle swung open, and the eldest son
rode out on his horse, galloping straight down the road...
looking straight ahead.
Perhaps that is why for men depression is sometimes
the entrance to the soul, melancholy a wide road to God,
and ordinary grief a door that when swung wide,
opens into feeling.  
Men often enter genuine feeling for the first time when in deep grief,
after cheerfulness and excitement have failed for years
to bring them there.
                                    Robert Bly

Soul loss can be observed today as a psychological phenomenon
in the everyday lives of the human beings around us.  Loss of
soul appears in the form of a sudden onset of apathy
and listlessness--a sleepiness;
the joy has gone out of life,
initiative is crippled,
one feels empty,
everything seems pointless.
                                                      Marie-Louise von Franz

                                                 Links from this page:

 Part IV:Water of life:  The First Attempt
This story we are following leads us into the places where we have experienced loss.  
And some of us remain stuck and some of us find an opening.  The kingdom is drying
up...will anyone weep?  We either remain so deeply stuck or we finally begin to weep.  
It hurts so bad.  Tears start the journey towards an answer.  
The King is sick.  The kingdom is a wasteland.  Death is near.    The only way to begin
to move "stuckness" is to begin to move toward the sorrow.  And if we don't move
toward our sorrow, we will turn into stone.  We will find this later on to be true in our
story.  Our hearts are always making a little bit of stone each day.  And if we don't
care for our sorrows, our hearts will turn stony and hard.  
This story starts out in such a place of emptiness, stuckness, and hardness.  This road
is not one that engenders strength.  Rather, it is a road toward weakness, not knowing
where we are going, listening to small voices, and wandering.  This is a road of faith
where doubt is always nearby.  This story is not one of ascension.  This is a story
about descending....going down....being close to those areas in us that we neglect.  
The sons are crying...   They have begun the first step towards an answer.  They have
come upon their sorrow.  And the tears draw the old man to them.  

We don't know how long they wept.  This condition could have lasted a very long
time.  What is important here though...is that the tears awakened the old man.  The
old man knows something.  He understands something about the state of the kingdom.
 He knows an answer.  Without the tears, the old man would have never come.  

This is so true in our lives.  When we are at the bottom, when we embrace our
sorrows and a tear begins to roll down our check, God is moved.  Compassion
awakens.   We hear a word that carries some hope.  A radical encounter is needed if
we are to move forward.  

Tears are the beginning towards a new path.  A piece of revelation...a form of
grace....is released.  If we stubbornly refuse to go down the path of descent, we will
remain stuck and hardened.   Everything will turn into a wasteland.  When we finally
come to our senses and look at the truth, peer at what is most difficult to see....a tear
forms.  God moves in such depths.  He brings us a word--a living word.  We find our
next step towards life again.