As my husband fished, I and the big white dog lounged and took in the scenery. I was struck by the utter quiet of the place. Other than the occasional call of a bird it was pure silence. A silence so deep and rich that had someone dropped a pin on the other side of the lake I would have heard it crashing to the ground. About every ten minutes the wind would stir through the tall pine trees, and they would gently sway and sing, a symphony of branches gently rubbing against each other, as they swayed I watched the gentle ripples cross the lake from shore to shore, and then everything returned to silence.
God had for whatever reason many years ago had the sense of humor necessary to gift me with the spiritual gift of mercy. I who for the most part was a fairly selfish person, not really caring much for people other than a select very small group of mostly family members. I was an introvert, and preferred to keep to myself and my own personal business. Yet He, perhaps it was due to His capacity for humor, decided to grant me the gift of His mercy. Now I fret for others, am moved to compassion by any and all signs of pain and suffering and feel compelled to assist in any manner that I can. Although I am still somewhat of an introvert by nature, I love people, I hate suffering of any kind be it human or beast and I spend most of my time assisting others, whether by befriending and intervening in a physical manner or by prayer.
Strangers whom I have never met in person consume my days, my heart feeling burdened by their plight, my soul being constantly prodded to pray for them and to engage others to do the same. Needless to say if someone I do personally know happens to be suffering it brings me to my knees, wakes me in the night and consumes all my waking thoughts. It is a gift given by God, one I confess to sometimes wishing I did not have. My soul cries a lot, sometimes my eyes do too. Yet I believe it is a blessing to be given a tiny piece of the heart of my Lord Jesus the Christ who always looked upon the crowds and had compassion for them.
The past several years have been a whirlwind of emotion. Personal pain and suffering within my own family, loved ones lost to suicide, loved ones sent to war and loved ones trying to come back from war. Sons of other mothers lost to war. Add to it the many friends and families suffering the same, or worse. Homeless people, refugees fleeing atrocities, turmoil on our streets, an increase in the general cruelty of man, against his fellow man and against God’s creatures, all collaborating to bring me to a constant state of feeling burdened. There is always somebody ( or some creature) suffering, always, and very often it is someone I love very much, but regardless of whom it it, watching it, hearing of it, being burdened for it, praying for those afflicted by it, all takes a toll on the soul.
I hadn’t really wanted to go on this three day camping trip, but had done so for my husband’s sake. And yet standing there, at the top of the ridge looking down upon Little Blue Lake I was so very glad we had come. Every care faded, every concern, every burden lifted, and I simply sat and enjoyed the peace and tranquility of that beautiful scene. Psalm 23 came to mind and I spoke the words softly under my breath as I had memorized them long ago as a child.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
The waters of that mountain lake were still and peaceful and I quietly prayed to God thanking Him for this deep sense of peace, telling Him how much I had needed this, and how wonderful it was. And then I told Him, Lord I wish I could stay here forever, build a cabin right here and never leave, take in this peace You have given and sit forever beside these still waters. And He said “Child, I am your still waters, I am your peace and that peace is available to you in the midst of calamity, at work, at play, at rest, it is available to you as you pray, available to you as you watch and come alongside the suffering, the wounded, the grieving.”
I sat silent for a moment and then turned on my Kindle and opened up the Message translation of the Bible and it opened to Matthew 11, verses 28-30.
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
I heard Him, the still small voice that speaks to my soul, heard Him as He said, “daughter come to Me, get away with Me, I will show you how to rest. Walk with me. Work with me. Watch how I do it……watch how I do it……watch how I do it…..learn the UNFORCED rhythms of grace. KEEP company with me.”
Oh Lord I see, I so often run into the fight, desperate to help and often doing so on my own strength. I so often feel as if the burdens that come, because of the gift You gave, are mine to solve, mine to alleviate, mine to fix. Yet they aren’t mine. They are Yours. I just need to be Your willing vessel and watch how You do it........... “Walk with Me and work with Me.” I hear You Lord.
We enjoyed the peace and tranquility of that beautiful mountain lake for most of the day, just me, my husband, the old big white dog…….and God.
He is our peace (Ephesians 2:14), He bears our burdens (Psalm 68:19), He does the work through me. (Philippians 2:13) Rest is found in Him, hope is found in Him, He is the Rock upon which I stand, He is the Fortress that I shelter in. {Psalm 62: 5-12}
Beside the still waters! O infinite peace!
When God leadeth me there, my troubles all cease;
And my feet, by the thorns of life’s wilderness torn,
Are bathed in the dews that are wept by the morn/
Beside the still waters, where pastures are green
And the glad sky bends o’er them in shadow and sheen;
I think of the glooms through whose terrors I fled,
And bless the dear Hand which my footsteps hath led.
Beside the still waters my cross it grows light,
That fainting, I bore through the storms of the night,
The same, through another it seems; and I pray
No more that my burden be taken away.
Beside the still waters, ah! Ripple and gleam
A thousand fold rarer in loveliness seem,
For the billows and foam, and the tumults of wrath
In the tempest of trial compassed my path.
Beside the still waters my hunger is fed,
And sweeter than manna drops daily my bread;
While of Christ, the great Rock that shadows their brink,
The full flowing streams of salvation I drink.
Beside the still waters! Ah! Why should I know
Rough ways for my feet, and the torrents wild flow,
When He who still leadeth me morning and night,
Could hold me for aye in the spell of delight?
Beside the still waters, shut in by God’s hills,
The exquisite sense of protection that fills
My bosom is born of the perils o’erpast;
As He led me at first, so He leads me at last!
(Poem is Beside Still Waters by W.C. Richards)
