Streams of Mercy

by Shauna V. Brown 

      Yesterday, Rick and I drove up the canyon to breathe in the beauty of nature. I always marvel 

at the reverence and awe that it generates within  my soul.  As I look up, it seems that I see further  

into heaven’s arms. As I scan that which surrounds me, I feel as if I am dressed in emerald shaded  

robes.  Sitting by the stream, listening to the rush of the water, I feel cleansed.  Birds chirp, and ants  

crawl, then a little, white butterfly dances past me.  A sense of peace permeates my spirit and I feel at home--wondrous home.   A yellow jacket came close enough to buzz within my ear, and I sat still because of a stinging remembrance.   

        I guess it is in the sweet stillness that allows one to ponder upon those things we wish we could recall.  Oh, how I wish I could remember that heavenly home again. Some say it is much more beautiful than earth, nothing like one can imagine, but looking around me, all I see is majestic wonder.  

           Years ago I learned a song, Trailing Clouds of Glory.  It was originally written as an Ode by, William Wordsworth.  It is a lengthy Ode, yet I would like to share a portion that I feel is fitting for today:                        

                        Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: 

The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, 

Hath had elsewhere its setting, 

And cometh from afar: 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God, who is our home:  

            I have long understood that writers are frequently set to pondering. I have identified with Charlotte Brontë, as she shared: 

          “We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, 

 that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence.”     

        Rick said, “Come, let’s put our feet into the water.” I hesitated too long, as fear of dirty slacks erased an added measure of pleasure. I didn’t want to disturb the moment I was soaking in.  

          The water’s cascading role wasn’t just felt by river rocks and fallen wood. I felt it surge within my heart and soul--Living Water. I guess that is why tender tears come, crest, and fall so freely, as one’s spirit is renewed.   

        In the quiet walk back into daily living, I breathed fuller, as I once again realized that feeling “streams of mercy,” is for real.  

        Enjoy your Sabbath 

        Take a moment and walk within God’s love. 

  

Love always,

Shauna