Sleep can bring welcome relief from the worries of the day, especially when we leave our problems at the foot of the cross in prayer before closing our eyes and resting our minds. We can join the psalmist in his cry for mercy, his plea that God will not forget him in his distress. We can exhale.

But then we wake up, and ­after the grogginess wears off, the burdens we were carrying the day before can come back and load us down again. We may just want to curl up under the covers and hide from the world.

It can be as if we are in a parched desert and our souls are craving the living water that we need to have running through our veins to renew us. We spread out our hands to God in prayer, saying, “My tank is empty; please refill me.”

My stepmother, Marla, said mornings were always the hardest times of the day when she was going through past cancer treatments—and while she watched her first husband fade away from Alzheimer’s disease. Before long, she was also running out of options for treating yet another bout with cancer. But through it all, she testified that each dawn, God delivered a refreshing dose of his unfailing love as she lifted up her thirsty soul for a long, cool drink of living water.

Good morning, God. I’m ready.