Thirst by Vicki Porter

Thirst
The farmer struggled in the field- His throat was hot and dry. "Oh, for an easing of my thirst!" He whispered with a sigh. A few feet from the farmer There was a deep, cold well- Why he didn't draw from it, Who could ever tell? The Christian struggled in the world- He spoke with great despair: "Oh, if there was only hope- Someone to help somewhere!"	A few feet from the Christian- A Bible near at hand- Why he didn't reach for it, Who could understand? We'd say that farmer's foolish To suffer needlessly When his help so nearby Surely he can see! But aren't we just as foolish To suffer fear and doubt When we can draw from God's Word In what seems spirit-drought? by Vicki Porter