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That's What I Call High Quality H2O

It's not one of my favorite movies, but it does provide a brief quote I enjoy repeating often, perhaps too often. The movie is The Water Boy, an inane and childish Adam Sandler comedy about a young man who goes from serving water to a football team to being its biggest star. Interestingly, the quote comes while the opening credits are still rolling.

Sandler, the water boy, sips from a cup of water and describes it as a "clean" and "cold." Smacking his lips, he states, "That's what I call high quality H2O." I love that quote! Hey, I never claimed it was deep or profound!

This past Saturday, Regina noticed her Impatiens was looking pretty droopy and saggy. Actually, the poor thing was wilting in the heat and was drying up as if it had been dumped in Death Valley and left to fend for itself. Stationed to the right of our front door, it gets several hours of direct morning sun and then, in the afternoons, the house blocks whatever cool breezes might tend to flow its way.

The picture above is a testament to its dismal and deteriorating condition. Actually, it looked worse than the picture shows. The potting soil was flaky dry and I'm pretty sure, if the thing could have talked, that we would have been on the receiving end of a blistering invective.

So, we dumped one good sized drinking cup worth of water on it. About twenty ounces, I'd say, and then we left it alone. Less than an hour later, we checked back on it and this is what we saw . . .

That's what I call high quality H2O. It's also what we'd all call a transformation. You might even say the flower received new life from a simple cup of water.

A couple of thousand years ago, a woman went to her town's well in the heat of mid-day, a time when most did not go to draw water for their family's daily needs. A man was sitting alone at the well and, when she approached, he asked if she'd scoop him out a cup of water. His request transgressed a couple of cultural boundaries. For starters, he was a man and, well, she was a woman and men weren't really supposed to be chatting up ladies in public like that. Second, he was a Jew and she a Samaritan, and those two groups got along worse than Alabama and Auburn fans in late November. She called him on it.

He responded by telling her first, that she didn't really know who she was talking to and, second, if she did she'd be asking him for a drink, not the other way around. Then, he blew her mind when he said that he could offer water that would prevent future thirst and that would become "a spring of water welling up to eternal life." Tired of hauling water back and forth to her house, she told him she'd like a few gallons of the stuff he was pushing.

If you remember the story, then you know Jesus wasn't talking about the latest sparkling water or a new trendy blend of some empowered, flavored water. He was really talking about Himself, about how God's grace in our lives can transform, rejuvenate, redeem, and save us both now and forever. He was promising to bring us back not just from the brink of death, but from death itself, for Holy Scripture teaches that we are indeed dead in our sin, in our trespasses. By the power of His own death and resurrection, Jesus offers us the chance to start over, to experience nothing less than new life.

And that's what I really call some high quality H2O.

I invite you to read the story for yourself in John 4:1-42.

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Some of you will disagree with this article. Some will hate it. A few of you will possibly never read another word I write. For all these reasons, and more, I thought long and hard about publishing it

On the evening of Tuesday June 14, 1988, Bishop Earnest A. Fitzgerald ordained me as a Deacon in The United Methodist Church. Three years later, on June 12, I again knelt as he ordained me an Elder in

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