Dear God, streams of cool water flow beside me, available to me in my weariness. So many streams, each itself fed by one smaller, tributary and branch.
Lord, I seek your aid and support – and it comes from so many quarters.
Yet I walk on, blind to the relief available to me if I but look a little more closely. Finally I am spent, and sit. Immobile, I can see the cool water trickling around me.
Open my eyes, dear Lord. I await rescue, but you have already delivered all I need and more.