Standing on the cold rocks in a river bed, I feel the chill of swirling waters. They sound as if they are talking to me…but it’s His voice I hear.
My Father has a way of speaking in the strangest of places. Sometimes in stillness, sometimes in the vast caverns of devastation, and sometimes in the multitude of business…but He always speaks. The thing is…am I listening? Am I listening for HIS voice, or paying more attention to the other sounds spilling out around me?
I bend over to pick up a piece of broken glass. It sparkles like a jewel, and I wonder what it was before it was broken. Can it be useful again? I skip it across the water, and then wonder if I just tossed away something important, which is silly. What can you do with a piece of broken glass anyway? If I pocketed it, I would surely cut my finger. Or, I’d find it in the washer, snagging my favorite sweater. Yeah, who needs brokenness?
I wonder how much water it takes to fill up this space? How much coolness does it take to soothe the hot rocks, and nourish the plants? A fish swims near, making little sounds with his tail. Unimportant sounds. I wonder how many times a day he swishes his tail, and heaves his feathery gills? A dragonfly takes cover…he’s privy to the fish…he heard the “unimportant sounds.” I guess those sounds were pretty important to the dragonfly. I wonder…
..did my Father plan EVERY swish of the fish’s tail? EVERY buzz of the dragonfly’s wing? Those little sounds, most of which would never be heard by anyone but Him…
…are important to Him, because every sound of creation cries out His Name!
“HOSANNA! GLORY IN THE HIGHEST!”
I’ve walked about six feet along the winding water-path. Something stings my toe.
And then I feel the cut. The consequence of a careless step.
All things are made new. Nothing is wasted or forgotten. Nothing sits unnoticed by the Author of the Universe…so I just wait…
You cannot be healed until you are broken. Until you are broken, you cannot sit still and listen. I sit on a big rock, hold my toe, and listen.
It takes time for the bleeding to stop, but in that space of time, I hear my Father speak. The sound of His words are sweet. Soul medicine. Things I would not have heard if I had been skipping rocks, or splashing in the mud. No, it’s the LOUDEST quiet…
…worth every cut and scrape. And when my careless steps are put back on solid ground, I know that it was I who threw the glass in my own path. The Healer had the clean, clear Water at the ready…
…washing all wounds, and carving a letter of Grace into the flesh.
And my soul leaps like the little fish, making sounds that are important to my Creator.
But he said, “If they kept quiet, the stones would do it for them, shouting praise.” (Luke 19:40) ~The Message
“The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” (Psalm 23:1-3)
“In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.” (Job 12:10)
“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
“Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live …” (Isaiah 55:3)
Until next time,
The Carpenter’s Daughter