FROM FLOWING STREAM TO QUIET POND

I like to think of the spiritual life as a flowing stream, ever progressing on a journey deeper into our true selves in God. I envision the riverbanks as God’s guidance, turning and leading me onward. My life experiences can be like springs of new waters adding momentum, or at times, like rocks and boulders slowing my flow. My ideal journey would be one of vitality and exuberance–tumbling and splashing over obstacles, spraying refreshing waters of joy, gurgling with delight or thundering with devotion–as I wind my way toward greater faithfulness, wisdom, and servanthood. I want my heart to “flow rivers of living water” as Jesus once described (John 7:38).

But as I approach my 68th birthday, the pace of my life stream is gradually slowing, both physically and spiritually. My river of living water isn’t as swift or effervescent as it once was. When a stream approaches a lake or pond, it begins to flow more slowly as it becomes wider and shallower. I sense that my spiritual life is slowing or mellowing in that same way. My faith is broadening, while my vigor is shallowing. Perhaps one day I will be more like the pond than the river.

I recall a beautiful truth about streamflow. As a river slows, its sediment begins to drop off, and the river becomes clearer and purer. With God’s help, this time of life can be a gift. My slower pace will mean I can no longer carry any superfluous or extraneous “sediment” I have picked up along the way. My hope is that, with mindful slowing and prayerful releasing, God may reveal a clearer mission, a purer wisdom for living these days.

And I wonder if our life stream is intended to bring us to the pond as our desired spiritual destination. All the ways we have traveled and turned, run low and replenished, taken in springs and sediment, then slowed and released, will one day bring us to this place. In the pond, we can quietly sparkle and glimmer with sunshine and heavenly sky. We can reflect God in the faces of those who gaze upon us. We can offer serenity as we gently touch the shore and murmur of peace.

We can abide in greater depths of wisdom and love.

We can be still–and we can behold.

Photos by Karen; stream in WV, Jordan Pond in ME.