“Creek” by Wendy Custer Prints, Cards, Journals available at cornercopiafarmandstudio.com
It is an interesting time. The pandemic is causing a forced slowdown for everyone in some capacity. Many of us are used to our busy lives, and even though we sometimes complain and talk about slowing down, this is startling and unsettling for many. As a result, my family has returned to things we haven’t done in years. One of my favorite “new” routines is the walk we used to take to creek down the road. As we ventured there together yesterday, I was reminded of something I wrote during another slow down in my life. I hope it brings peace and hope into your life today.
The Still Place an excerpt from “A Cup of Encouragement” by Wendy Custer 2007
I walked the creek today. Normally, I am drawn to the places where I can hear the water tumbling over the stones. The noise of the water gurgling, trickling, rushing is a soothing sound to me. I enjoy watching the water find its way around the rocks, forming interesting patterns, carrying with it leaves and twigs. I like to observe what will make its way around the rocks and what will become trapped.
Today, though, I was drawn to a different place. I stopped at an area where the water was quiet, almost still, and for some reason it filled me with wonder. How can the same body of water be rushing before and rushing after, but in the middle be so quiet and almost not moving? The water seemed to form a pool, an oasis of peace in the midst of the busyness. There was no sound. Leaves gently floated instead of tumbling. There were no ripples. It made no sense. Shouldn’t the momentum of before push this water along at the same pace? Didn’t the motion further downstream have to come from this same water? It seemed to say that it is okay to stop and rest for a while. It is alright for life to virtually halt. Peace is good and natural. The busyness and excitement will return in due time.
I noticed that the place where the water was still and quiet was also deeper and clearer. The areas where the water rushed was often shallow, full of rocks, limbs, and other obstacles. Also, the movement of the water itself made it difficult to see below the surface.
In life I often prefer and gravitate towards the rushing water. I find the busyness of life – the patterns, the sounds, stimulating and exciting. But I wonder if it is the distraction that I enjoy most. As I have taken a sabbatical from my life lately, a quietness and stillness has naturally formed. It has been a bit frightening. To give up all of the rushing and the momentum, to be quiet and still, is to give up control. I have to trust that I will be given the opportunity to have that movement again. Am I moving now? Yes, I must be, just as that water in the still place was moving. However, it is a peaceful, contemplative moving with depth and clarity that is not possible in rushing water.
Now, when I get to a place of excitement and tumbling, the movement is no longer mine, but God’s. What freedom to know that I can be still, that I don’t have to keep moving just to keep that momentum going. I can be free to enjoy the peace now and the rushing, tumbling, excitement when it comes.
“He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.”
Psalm 23:2b-3a