Things, little things, can get my thoughts deeply stimulated.
Part of what I am is a philosopher. One who thinks about reasons for existence. Not having all the answers can frustrate… if we allow it to.
This morning life teaches me again through snow melting. Dripping. Sometimes in chunks, and sometimes in tiny little drops. But the force of gravity cannot be overcome by the composition of oxygen and hydrogen: It must leave its state of being, change and move on to the next step in purpose.
We can get so caught up in meaning for existence, purpose of life, where we will be and what on earth we are doing on earth. Guilt is a burglar. Sometimes hijacking our peace at the traffic lights, when the thoughts come piercing with the shattered glass and take away every achievement and every bit of structure we think we cling to. Guilt may also come in the dark hours, clothed in dimness to blend in with the night when we try to sleep, and will quietly grasp away our precious memories of success, one by one. It might also be that Guilt arrives with several of his hooligan friends, like Self-Pity, Pride and Comparison, and storm at our fragile burglar bars of defensiveness, beating us back into foetal balls of self-loathing and dismay.
Guilt sounds like a rather unpleasant creature. And he is. He is not to be invited in, to hang around and to make himself at home.
Philosophical thoughts can sometimes tend too much towards the Guilt –like crowd. Just as a parent encourages a child to choose friends carefully, so we should coax our thoughts to choose the areas they want to hang around in oh so very carefully. Sticking in the company of Guilt, Comparison and What-ifs will lead to rather unpleasant behaviour, so choose mental company wisely.
Each of these little drops we saw falling had, and still has, purpose.
There is a time to stick together. Various constellations of sticking together.
But every single droplet, in every place, is destined to travel. To move from ice to steam to liquid. To move from earth to sky. To perhaps lie in a muddy puddle somewhere for a while, experiencing the intimacy of mud and dirt and filthy splatters. Also, I am certain, every droplet of water is also destined to be part of the crashing of waves upon a shore, majesty of grandeur as a symphony of many droplets united to sing splendour and power to those who will hear it.
We are called to move. Flexibly, generously, graciously.
Not to grip too closely to the frozen states which lead to rigidity and fruitlessness.
We are to flow. Sometimes over rocks, quickly and tumultuously. But, even then, there is purpose.
Water is a carrier. Of all things life. Of all things life-giving.
Rocky sections introduce more air. Freedom. Space to play. Gather more sun-rays. To sing another tune.
And water never gets so caught up in thinking about its purpose that it does not live its purpose.
So often we get so stuck on what we are doing, that we forget we are all about BEING. Actions flow out of who we are, not being flowing out of what we do.
Water flows, moves, drips, gathers, lets go because it is simply water.
And I know that water is not composed of the huge part that leads us to overthink and contemplate: the soul and the mind. But if we let those parts hang around with friends like Overthought, PURPOSE and Achieve then soon they open the doors for their other friends: Comparison, Despair, and Guilt love to join in with that crowd too.
What makes water so amazing to look at is really how the Light falls on it. How it captures and reflects Light.
And then it is not all about the water.
It is time for us to turn away from panicking about if we are being water enough,where we are meant to be water and how we are meant to be water and instead just BE what we are created to be: plain water, just reflecting.
We are created in the image of the Great Creator. His Spirit wishes to dwell in us. Move in us. Lead us through all the changes that life brings.
He promises that He will never abandon us. No matter where the streams lead. No matter what ferocious storms the water droplets are forced to pound through. The character of water, its true composition of two hydrogen and one oxygen atom can never ever be altered. We cannot change from being created in His image. Formed for relationship with Him. Being changed from one kind of glory to another, if we will allow His Spirit to have His perfect way in our lives.
If we are living to serve God daily, then we are His purpose. Our successes and failures mean nothing. They are all simply part of a journey where we are being transformed. Sometimes coldly iced into one place. Sometimes as temporary as steam. And always as various aspects of water in different places: lakes, little puddles on a dirty jungle road somewhere unknown, falling over majestic well-beloved waterfalls, never remaining still for too long, for then we are only rancid.
Like a snow-cooled drink at harvest time
is a trustworthy messenger to the one who sends him;
he refreshes the spirit of his master. (NIV)
May we bring refreshment, reflecting glimmeringly the One who created us. And may we move easily wherever He sends us. We are the work of His hands, not our own making.