Noisy Waters

January 18, 2019

From a distance, it’s just another noise in the background that fades in and out of my awareness. Traffic, the barking of our dog Emma, or even the constant whistling of my tinnitus easily blocks out its sound. An afternoon trek through the snow changes all that; the closer I get, the louder it gets. Finally, standing by the water’s edge, everything else disappears before the rushing and gurgling of the creek as it laughs over the gravel and shale, picking up momentum as it rounds the bend and tumbles over the small waterfall behind our house. 

Everything hinges on proximity. And on movement. Only close up does it muffle the clatter of traffic and the whooshing of our furnace exhaust. Only when the water moves does it talk. Still waters may be deep, but they also hide their secrets in their silence.

Jesus said, “Whoever believes in me, as the scripture has said, ‘Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.’” For the water of life to flow from within us, we must get close to Jesus. Distance masks the sound of his voice, and too often, I find myself standing beside still and silent waters, waiting for but not hearing the Voice. As God told Jeremiah, “My people have committed two evils; they have forsaken the fountain of living (ie. flowing) waters, and hewed themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.” (2:13). 

I stood by the creek today, listening to the water drowning out all other sounds. I was close, and wanting to be close enough to God that all other voices fade away before the majesty of the living, flowing waters of the Holy Spirit.