It’s early morning and in this quiet hour, the room is darkened. The light of the candle reflects upon my water glass. And, the water refracts the light, dispersing it. At the same time, I can see the view of the Arm from my chair.
Lights from the yacht club across the way reflect upon it. The tidal water is still this morning. And, I too, am still.
It’s hard to fathom, but water is 4.6 billion years old. It is older than the sun. It is older than the formation of the earth. And, I could not be if it weren’t for this element of nature. Even more marvelous is that my body is 60% water. 60% of me is also 4.6 billion years old! I don’t feel that old — just tired. Does water get tired?
The water that I see lapping the shore just a few metres from where I sit is the same water that laps the shore 1 km from my home that is a day’s drive away from where I sit.
Whenever I can see the water, I feel less far from home.
The same water that washes, the same water the purifies, the same water that shapes and freezes and thaws and crashes and calms — it claims and marks me. I am reborn and marked as Christ’s own forever. When Christ was tired, he went away to pray.
I am away. I will pray. This is the deepest well I can ever know. In this, I am home. Wherever I am there is water and abundant life and home.
© 2018 Douglas A. Beck. All rights reserved