I stood by a splashing dashing stream swollen by the recent storm. It's murky waters hurried by, carrying the tint of the banks which tried in vain to contain the flood. It picked up rubbish in its mad rush, overturning rocks and sticks and clumps of grass. What can I learn from this? I mused.
It reminds me of the life absorbed in anxiety and fret, always rushing, but never achieving, always obtaining, but never satisfied. The worried, troubled mind rushes endlessly but never seems to arrive at its destination. On it goes, disturbing others, overturning the rocks that were meant to glisten in its bed, uprooting the grass that was to adorn its banks, eroding the soil, it is supposed to nourish. The troubled mind resists its 'banks', carving away the circumstances, the very means ordained by God to keep us in his will. How can I help and nurture others without destroying them, if i never be still and wait on the Lord? How can I reflect Christ when my rushing waters are murky with self? How can I represent my savior if my life only reflects the circumstances through which it passes?
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