Susan LaffertyA place called Marah. “Bitter.”
Men, women, and children trudge through wilderness. After Egypt. After walking between walls of sea. After escaping the enemy.
But now. On the other side. There’s no water anywhere.
Until they reach Marah.
And they find it so. The water, that is.
Bitter.
A cup of water. In debilitating heat, it can mean survival.
A large clay pot sat beside our gate. Full of water. With cup attached. Ready to meet the need of any passerby.
Unrelenting sun and desert wind meant dehydration was never far away.
The clay kept the water cool. Even on hot days.
