A moment breathing in living water

This morning I start to get a little clarity in my thinking in terms of the coming months and a little self disciple on a routine of sorts. There is a lot to embrace, discern and simply be present in the coming months. While I ponder my clarity I look outside to the rain slowly falling on the ground, giving thanks for the water to nourish the soil that is so dry and struggling to continue to give life to the plants. 

I find myself drifting away to a week I spent recently in Glenalough, Ireland. Before I arrived I was told it was a celtic retreat, to learn and embrace the celtic way. In truth by the time I reached Glenalough just like my pilgrim travellers I was worn out, spiritually, mentally and emotionally. 

The first day I walked along the track that many visitors walked to go to the pilgrim sites of St Kevin. Walking in the crowds I could sense a longing to break away, to divert against the crowds and be still in a place that felt so much like home. 

Arriving to a lake I continue on with a sense of something more to come, running water flowing over the rock formation filling the air with life, with peace, with comfort that no words can ever express. There’s something about flowing water that opens my heart to encounter the Living Water I so desperately crave. My soul was thirsty, and I went with hopes that I might be filled. 

I begin the the climb, aware of a miner settlement that used to be, with a pit in my stomach I felt in response to how humans abuse and dismiss the earth in great rush, in great haste taking and taking without giving anything back to mother nature. I could feel the tears for the earth that I walked upon, feel the pain that had cut through removing all the nourishment, nutrition away from her, leaving piles of earth so barren nothing could grow, can form root structure of live in the emptiness of this miners valley that remains years after human hands take from her. 

Looking down from top of waterfall

Climbing pass this, up the hillside, over the rock formation and winding path that leads to the water, the towering conifers seemed to shroud me with welcoming arms. Billowy cumulous clouds differed lazily overheard - gentle reminders to slow down and bask beneath cobalt skies. I pressed forward with the assurance that at the top I will be able to breath, be able to feel the Lords presence so much more than at the bottom of the waterfall. 

I walked up hill with no end in sight, it weaves around following the gentle curves of the emerald water and offering short prayers about fleeting concerns. My body longed to keep in the rhythm of hurrying that drives my days, with a forced of my inner self to linger long over tritium sprouting from black earth and skunk cabbage blanketing swampy blogs along the trail. I settle on a rock overlooking the water, lying flat against its warmth and breathing in the scent of the water. It smelled alive, earthy, and like an old friend who offered no false pretences. I consider my own life and the invitation to rest on this rock in all my uncensored vulnerability - no one to impress, no need to be anyone other than my weary self. 

I rested unguarded beneath the tender gaze of my heavenly Father. 

Taking a deep breath to just wonder ‘wow’ look where I sit before the image of the Creator, what an image. It was a moment with a reminder that it I don’t think He cares as much about where I am going as He does care about who I am becoming. Wherever I go, I will always be His and He will be there. 

Its a beautiful message that my heart needed, and still does need reminding today. 

In life we are all come to end of seasons and new beginnings, under the surface there is a sense of excitement, of joy and anticipation, sort of like advent in sorts. While often at times on the surface is business, haze and small tasks that are taken out of context to the amount of energy required for them. At times it would be nice to hear someone say yes or no, yet really all I would want only to hear these words is from the Lord. His ways are my ways I pray. 

I continued walking along the path which turned into a bit of a board walk - railway steepers with u shape nails embedded into them. I was ill equipped or possibly equipped in terms of who I am in that moment, and worn ballet flat shoes. (black thin canvas shoes that have a rather thin sole and no support) As I started to walk along the tops of the hills on these boards feeling every nail under my foot with every footstep I was taken to Jesus, taken to feel with surreal depth of the a connection of his journey and mine. 

What does the nails represent, what do they tell me about myself? The thought of being a slave or a servant probably repulses many of us in our culture built upon freedom and independence. We wrap our fingers tight around our freedoms, and they wrap their grip tightly around us too, entangling our hearts and taking hold of how we live. But I know deep down I was begging to stay with my Master. For my Father to secure me to Himself, for everyday moments to be marked by His blood. 

In truth to get to this moment of standing upon the boards with nails, looking out onto the reflection of Creator shinning back, light dancing playfully against the suns shadows on the water surface. I had no idea of the trials that would shake my faith to the core, and joy beyond my wildest imagination. Now I have been introduced to the power of love, the reality of living gospel values everyday and giving all to serve. 

I sit upon the rock just watching and waiting. Feeling like I am waiting in the coming, in the return, waiting for a remarkable revelation or an undeniable sense that God’s love was with me. While I know He loves me, while I know it was proven once and for all at the cross, I often find myself asking for a reminder. I want to feel something in my heart, drink it in like water, and encounter God in a new way. 

It is not easy to lay down our wants, but it is always worth it, every single time. Sometimes I wrestle, and He takes my face into His hands and whispers my name, invites my eyes to look into His. And they are kind eyes - compassionate, gentle and trustworthy. My flesh would rather it be my way, for it all to work out as I want, when I want, how I want. But what of the Creators wants? Are I not marked by a love and devotion to Him, and isn’t being a member of His family better than being free and on my own? And do I not get the joy of being fully His - utterly, completely devoted to Him?

As I continue to take to prayer the next step in my journey it is clear that it doesn’t mean that I will follow Jesus in the most terrible of hard places because of simple obedience, but because of love. Because I love Him so much, all I want is to serve Him, to follow Him. 

After the angel foretells to Mary that she will in fact be the woman to carry God incarnate into the world, “How can this be?” is her initial question. The angel answers simply that nothing could ever be impossible with God. “I am the Lord’s servant,” she says. “May it be to me as you have said.” The Lord’s servant.. is her simple answer. Willingly, she means. Willingly she will choose to be a servant. Willingly she will choose this Creator who has always given good gifts and with whom nothing is impossible! May we too have the courage to be like Mary, respond with a pure open heart.