June 23, 2008 § 1 Comment

My prayer room today was a river.  I dare you not to sing another song about the river of God until you’ve gone swimming in a river.  There’s something about the current of a river that will wash your soul into a place of peace that is much more than my puny rhetoric.  Try it.


I went for a long, hot walk and then just jumped in the Brazos River behind my mom’s house.  Despite all the silt and sticks, it felt clean.  I laid on my back and my Chacos made my feet float and before I knew it, the current had carried me farther than I meant it to.  I stood up, but the river pushed and prodded me, trying to sweep me off my feet again.  I started thrashing my way back to my entry point, but made no progress.  The river was insistent that I go where it wanted me to.  I swam against it with all my might for what seemed like forever, and then I took a break and stood up again.  The water was only up to mid-calf.  I laughed–so did He–and spent the rest of the afternoon stomping upstream and then floating back down over and over.  I could only sit still if I dug in my feet.  And even then, crouched underwater, I would find my arms floating into the current, pulled by the river toward a destination it was sure they would want to go toward, also.


I’ll let you draw all the parallels.  For me, they were profound.  I felt like Jesus was flirting with me.  Don’t get weirded out.  If you had heard the fish jump that I heard, and turned and seen nothing there, you would have felt flirted with, too.





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