When I was growing up, I spent my summers on what we called my grandmother’s “farm,” but it was actually her orchard because she had sold off most of her land following my grandfather’s death. The orchard was a slice of heaven on earth. At least this is the way I choose to remember it.

When I was young, staying at the orchard was dirty, sweaty, backbreaking, and exhausting work. On really hot summer days, there were times I felt like I was going to collapse. But at the edge of the orchard, right in the yard outside the farmhouse, stood an old cast-iron pump. I would grab a tin cup, scoop up some water sitting in the pail beneath the spout, prime the impeller, and begin pumping the handle. A faraway vacuum sound followed by a rising gurgle preceding a gush of ice-cold, clear, sparkling, refreshing water. I still remember the chill and goosebumps the cold water brought to my warm body. It was as wonderful a visceral, physical experience as I can remember from my entire childhood. When I hear the phrase from Isaiah, “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation,” the pump at my grandmother’s farm comes to mind. What an amazing image! Drawing the very water of life from the well of salvation. Immersing one’s hands and face and very being in the abundant wellspring of God’s love and grace. Receiving in an ever-flowing stream the freely given redemption and acceptance of God.

When we are tired, hot, and weary, God’s grace restores our souls and refreshes our spirits. Too often we allow ourselves to become dehydrated in our faith. How deep is the well from which we draw? God supplies all we need to thrive, even in the most difficult times, even when we feel we cannot make it on our own.