Still Waters

I was enjoying a quiet morning at a friend’s trailer on a beautiful lake. I was not up before the sun, but I was up before the effect of the sun hit the area. Everything was still. The only sound was the long slow call of a few lonely birds. The surface of the lake was smooth as glass; so calm it felt intrusive to swim. My wake would surely interrupt the majesty of nature so serenely and perfectly reflecting itself to the sky. But I walked in, and as the coolness reached my breast, my arms began to play across the glassy surface like a bow on a violin. And the water responded to each wave of movement with a song! I had never noticed in the noise of the day what pristine notes ring out from the stirring of such deeply quiet water.

A little later I was sitting on the beach when all at once, like a switch being turned on, the trees woke up and started rustling in the breeze. The sun was heating up the air and everything was starting to move. As I watched, tiny ripples started racing back and forth across the surface of the water crashing in to one another in a mad dash that would not end until they fell again upon another shore. It was like that for the rest of the day. The birds started singing and foraging, the bugs came out to play and so did the humans. There was no more calmness, no reflection and no music. But I was permanently cheered by the thought that early next morn there would be another quiet sanctuary - whether I was around to enjoy it or not.

I thought that our lives are very much like that. Some mornings, especially if I've had a quiet time with the Lord, I am just like those still waters. Ready to make music for Him. And then the day gets moving and I find myself in the middle of a mad rush. But I have been working on the process of reminding myself, when I get lost in the busyness: closing my eyes and finding my way back to those precious still waters with Him.