A Legacy of Thirst: From Broken Homes to Living Streams
Honoring the Fallen by Becoming Present Fathers, Psalm 42
Approximately one in four children in the U.S. grow up without their biological father in the home.
That’s not just a statistic—that’s a wound and a scheme of an enemy.
On this Memorial Day, I’m reminded how priorities come into focus when you're facing life or death.
When you’re in the line of duty, the things we argue about fade fast:
That job loss? That impatient driver? That disagreement at home?
They suddenly don’t matter.
But one thing does matter:
God and Family.
There is a war on families right now—and it’s not just cultural. It’s spiritual.
Because the enemy knows: when families remain united, transformation begins.
Kids grow up more whole.
Homes become places of healing.
And the world begins to shift… one household at a time.
You might feel like a broken piece in that picture. Maybe you didn’t inherit a strong legacy.
Maybe you are the statistic.
But there’s good news.
The Sons of Korah Shouldn’t Be Here
Today’s reading, Psalm 42:1–3, is written by the sons of Korah—descendants of a man who betrayed Moses and was swallowed up by the earth (Numbers 16). If anyone had a cursed legacy, it was them.
But something radically shifted.
Instead of following in rebellion, these sons rewrote their story.
And now we’re reading their words thousands of years later:
“As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, my God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?”
(Psalm 42:1–2 NIV)
That’s not destruction.
That’s devotion.
That’s not rebellion.
That’s revival.
What Changed?
They thirsted for God.
They gave Him their whole selves—pain, longing, praise.
And in doing so, they offer us three powerful reminders:
Your past does not define you—your thirst does.
You don’t need a perfect family line—just a surrendered heart.
Your tears can become songs. Your pain can become legacy.
Their cries echo across time: “When can I go and meet with God?”
There was a longing… a distance… a holy hunger.
Jesus Fulfills the Thirst
And then, in John 7:37–39, Jesus stands up and says:
“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink.”
He is the stream they were panting for.
He is the fulfillment of their deepest ache.
He doesn’t just point to living water—He is the Living Water.
Now, because of Christ, you and I don’t wander in exile asking where God is.
We can come boldly to Him: No reservations. No rituals. No shame.
Why?
Because He came to us.
What they longed for, we now live in.
What they hoped for, we now hold.
What they thirsted for, we now drink daily.
Never Finished Challenge: Thirst
If we want to honor those who died to give us freedom, let us use our freedom to thirst for God today and every day after spending time with him first thing in the morning. Read Genesis or John, or anywhere you feel a nudge.
And when you do, He will lead you to love your wife, your children, and your calling in a new way.
You won’t just avoid becoming a broken-home statistic—
You’ll become a stroke of color in the eternal masterpiece God is painting.
You’ll be the light.
You’ll be the salt.
You’ll bring taste back to a tasteless world and light back to a dark world—because of Jesus.
What This Says About God
My best friend from college called me today.
He just became a father.
Years ago, when my platoon sergeant tragically passed away, God made a way for me to attend the funeral in another state with my platoon.
My best friend, who just so happens to live in the same state, —without hesitation—said, “I’ll be there.”
And he showed up.
Today, we talked as fathers, overwhelmed by the gift of raising children. We were grateful for those who laid down their lives for our freedom, and thankful for the daily opportunity to be present dads. Though he doesn’t believe in Jesus yet, I expressed gratitude for what Jesus did. It was such an encouraging call.
And every time I open Word, I’m reminded:
God is not tired of being my Father.
He is not ashamed of me.
He’s not withholding love or limiting access.
Instead, He keeps pouring into me living water that never runs dry.
I am His son.
Because He loves me.
And He loves you.
What a Father.
What a King.
What a Friend.
Thank You, Jesus.