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Re: [at-l] Water levels



Practicing To Be An Ocean

I hiked along the joyous young waters of a mountain stream and I had to
pause and listen a long while as God spoke to me of His power, patience
and unselfishness. 

I sat on the bank and watched the many droplets, newly born of rain and
snow. They joined together in His great plan to become a might ocean a
few days hence. Soon they would roar onto the sands of ancient shores but
today these children practiced their mighty sea songs, jumping down and
over the time smoothed stones. Enthusiastically, the lead waters shouted
to their brothers to rush head long down to meet them in the pools. They
laughed at the antics of the more mischievous who were hiding in the
eddies to spring onto their kin. Then tumbling and giggling they all
dashed their merry way towards the river below.

To my wonder and delight I saw young ferns hiding in the crevices from
the winter's freezing grasp. The waters frolicked at the feet of these
ferns who were nodding in full approval. The patient, green mosses
remained reserved in the dignity of their many seasons. But they never
turned their gaze away from the creek. 

The friendly stones bore the weight of dignity and clamor alike. Some had
watched from their very spot the passings of my fathers' fathers. Other
stones had been carry along by the eager stream as if they were silt. Yet
others had been carried to hollows and gaps and knobs to be fitted
together into friendlier shelters.

When at last I saw the  shelter stones they did not seemed sad or put
upon in their new home. Gladly and surely they carried the weight of
their new load, a roof, a chimney, a wall. Resting within the embrace of
the friendly stones, I though again and again of the cheerful stream.
Many of the waters had postponed their journey to give life to trees and
grasses and the creatures of the wilds, all according to the Father's
plan. In the gathering darkness I looked out into the forest. There in
the wood were the happy waters waiting for the very many years to pass,
for the day the warming sun would draw them skyward. And once again they
would greet their friends on that seaward trek. 

Is it any wonder that the waters rejoice?       Hopeful

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