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In Memory: The Water of Life

At times I am a stone in the river.  I feel the cool water rushing over me, bringing change, bringing life, bringing death.  I feel the river get rough, the water too high and too fast as it rushes by.  It bumps up against me, forcing me from my settled bed and into the moving stream.  The moss is rolled away, the slippery adhesions of choices and mistakes.  It all comes away like cotton in the wind.  Sometimes I am rolled to a spot that is too deep, the water gurgling over my head, a laughing sound.  Eventually I notice it is peaceful and dark down here and some of the fear is washed away.  I have time to think and just be still.  Be still, a simple refrain.  Be still.

I am a stone in the river.  My rough edges are slowly polished away.  It is not an easy process, oh no.  It is pain and fear and mistakes.  But also joy - joy smooths away those spiny bits just as skillfully as pain.  I am made smooth, a product of the flow, perfected by rolling waters.  Flipping upside-down is just part of the process, part of revealing those parts of me that were hidden and rough, part of rounding out.

I am a stone in the wild river.  Morning, noon, twilight and midnight.  The seasons come and go, blending together, sometimes slowing me, sometimes filling me, sometimes dry, sometimes abundant.  The river reaches on, twists and turns in the distance.  Sparkling blue waters that hold untold adventures and trials.  At times the trees grow close to the edges and I can smell the dangling fruits.  The long fingers of the mossy grass brush me as I rush by.  Other times, the world around feels barren.  Endless stretches of red, dry land and a hot sun.  Sometimes I settle in a shallow pool for ages, waiting.  Other times I roll without stopping, swept up in the churning rapids. 

At times I am a stone in the river. 

And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. - Revelation 22:1

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