[He's] Never Gonna Leave Me Dry

You’re never gonna leave me dry
No You don’t
No You don’t
No You don’t
You’re always willing
My cup You’ll be filling

He's never going to leave me dry, leave me in the dust, covered in ashes. He won't leave me in my despair, my human hopelessness, my wounds throbbing.

He is
always

willing.

To fill me up with himself, with the Spirit, with his plentiful redemption and offered forgiveness.

He gives us beauty for gray ashes. Sweet oil for mourning. And water for the thirst built into our hearts. He will not leave us on the ground, fallen on the road, stuck in a cruel rut. He picks us up and walks beside us, that we may lean on him for the
long
road
ahead.

How can I resist? How can I refuse his presence, shove away his outstretched arm? How can I try to do it on my own, when I stumble every other step and taste the crumbling dirt on my tongue?

Why would I try to do it on my own, when he is
always
willing?