While on a silent retreat, I found myself following and observing the movements of a river that winds through the property. As I allowed my mind to engage, I became aware of the many ways the river metaphor has been used in spiritual circles.
This river, as I see it with new eyes, comes alive with symbolism and provides a fresher perspective on life. I am drawn in and feel called to sit with it awhile, to allow it to teach and inform me. I walk along its banks and settle into the task of observing and becoming more aware, drinking in its messages.
The contours of the river intrigue me. Some of its branches lead to calm waters; others carve a path over obstacles and require some effort to get beyond the log jam. I focus on the path of obstacles, as in my life there are several. I am attentive to the effort needed to move beyond the barriers where the speed of things changes, and momentum and chaos increase beforeeventually quieting down. I am drawn into God’s creative dance; He is all around me and I drink deeply from this well, knowing my chaos is redeemable.
In smoother places on this river, hidden impediments just below the surface cause the velocity to ramp up its pace. They are unseen but understood to possess power. These are the places that beckon me to notice, and examine what is hidden and powerful within me. The unhindered movement of the river reminds me of the invisible force that guides me in these moments, moments of confusion and loss, that are attended by His invisible hand and I am comforted.
The river-waters continue to move along the natural boundaries of the riverbanks; contained, hemmed in & directed. Only God knows which way the riverbanks will twist and turn and what waits just around the next bend. I am aware of my smallness in this cosmic scheme, my inability to control what may come, and of God’s sovereign hand in all of life, my life.
I notice the trees and plants that thrive along the banks as the waters wind along and observe how they stand and wave at the passing current, nodding with the breeze, welcoming the passersby, whispering, “We will accompany you.” Then suddenly, without warning, the current detours into a quiet cove – perhaps because of a fallen branch or a discarded object. Regardless, it is useful and welcomed as a calm, peaceful oasis: a place to rest and wait and be nourished. In this time, I am aware of my own need for the solitude of this cove.
Then, the current beckons again and the waters wash out into the previous tempo. As the river moves along, its pace quiets and becomes more graceful. A deep peace descends, and the river is carried along without a care. These seem to be some of the longer stretches where it is easy to believe the terrain and pace will remain unchanged forever. Lazily moving about, lushly attended by her companions on the banks, oh how consoling it is. If only I could stay in this place and allow its peace to minister deeply to my soul.
Suddenly, the river becomes shallow, barely creeping along, almost choked off but still continuing for some unknown reason. The flow survives only by intentionally pushing on. If it were to stop here, it would whither away and cease to exist; never to join other waters, never to experience the unknown adventures, perils, and peace. Imperceptibly, as if pushed along by invisible hands, the river continues, choosing life. In my life, these opportunities to be intentional are evident –calling me to lean into what there is and to become what I am called to become.
On the river, a crossroad appears. Other branches of water join in, the pace quickens and the terrain changes. There are detours, twists, and chaos. There are barriers and dead ends. But all will resolve in the end.
Where does this river begin and where does it end? All that is certain is its presence in the here and now, and the constancy of its changes. How like the seasons and tempo of my life. Revelation: 22:1-2 “Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”
