The rush is spongy and hollow, much like a hypocrite; there's no substance or stability in either. It's tossed about by every wind, just as formalists shift with every influence. For this reason, the rush isn't broken by a storm, nor does persecution trouble hypocrites. I don't want to deceive or be deceived. Today's text might help me examine whether I'm a hypocrite or not.

The rush naturally lives in water, depending on the mire and moisture where it roots. If the mire dries up, the rush quickly withers. Its greenness relies entirely on circumstances. Plenty of water keeps it healthy, but a drought destroys it immediately. Is this true for me? Do I only serve God when I'm in good company or when religion seems beneficial? Do I love the Lord only when I receive temporal comforts from His hands?

If so, I'm a hypocrite, like the withering rush. I'll perish when death takes away my outward joys. But can I truly say that when bodily comforts were few, and my surroundings were more challenging than helpful to my faith, I still held onto my integrity? If so, there's hope of real godliness in me. The rush can't grow without mire, but God's plants can flourish even in a drought.

A godly person often thrives best when worldly circumstances decline. Following Christ for material gain is to be like Judas; those who seek Him for what He provides are not truly His. But those who follow out of love for Him are His beloved. Lord, let my life be found in You, not in the fleeting favors or gains of this world.