The Stream of Life

I was talking to someone today. Someone who used to be a very close cousin and friend. Over the past couple years this friend has fallen away from the Truth, in a way that has hurt me more than they can know.

We were talking, though it was more of a verbal defensive fight, and in the end essentially renounced each other. For I was unwilling to step away from my faith, and he was unwilling to step closer so long as I clung to it and reached for him. In a moment of frustration he said "F*** you" and I told him to "get right with God" before he came back.

I was extremely distraught having severed that friendship that had been around for nearly 16 years. Of course, he's still my cousin and we're still attached in that regard, but now I'm afraid there will be an enmity lingering between us when we're forced together in family settings. I want to see him come back to Christ and I want for us to be great friends like we were when we were little.

I was very upset over our whole conversation, I sought advice from a few peers for a few minutes, but nothing they said helped anything. I decided I would go for a walk to think and pray about the whole situation. It was raining outside so I put on some thick jeans, a heavy sweatshirt, and my man boots. Then I trudged outside.

Our neighbor has a stream way down in the woods. I'd never been to it before, but I'd seen a small bit of it that wound into their yard and under the road. I've always loved streams. They offer some sort of peace and I seem to be able to think more clearly on their banks. I had no idea where the stream was except that it was deep in the woods somewhere.

I started wading through the brush off the normal path, pushing aside fallen branches and sticky brambles. For about ten minutes I made my way steadily into the thick brush, looking for the stream. I couldn't find it. I stopped and looked around, not sure what I was looking for, something, anything that might point the way. I was disappointed because I had really expected to find the stream and clearly, I hadn't been able to. I was about to turn around and go back, but I saw a little path through the foliage, a deer trail. I pushed my way to the path and followed it for a ways deeper into the woods. It lead right to the stream. I was happy.

For awhile I just stood out over the stream on a few rocks, worshiping the One who had formed the water and earth that made up the flowing water and it's bed. Then I just watched the water.

The rain was splashing into it making little ripples. I saw small leaves and seed pods, knocked off of plants by the rain, floating down the stream. Some of them just floated merrily along, unbothered by the rain or little eddies. Others floated until they became lodged on a stick or stuck on a rock. Sometimes another leaf would come along and bump the first leaf off of one of the rocks, and they'd both float away happily.

I poked at the leaves and pods stuck on a rock near me, they came off and continued on their journey. Then it came to me.

The stream. It was the stream of life. The seed pods and leaves, they are us, people, wandering down the path to who-knows-where. Some of us go through life without so many huge problems, we don't get caught up on those rocks because we know how to handle the problems and we can avoid the danger.

But some of us go through life and we run into big problems, problems we can't handle, and we get stuck on that rock, or lodged tightly in the roots of an overhanging tree. Sometimes a friend will come along and help us out, show us how to get out of our predicament. But sometimes, it takes something bigger, something not-normal, to get us unstuck. And sometimes it takes a while.

I'm going to keep praying for my cousin. As much as I'd like to "shake the dust off my sandals," I can't. I want him to find the way. Maybe not the way that he feels is the way. The Right way.