Brook Walking

What I love most, I think, about the Book of Psalms, is that the lyrics found there aren't all happy. And they aren't all sad. They're so "real life."

One day, things are great--couldn't be better--the sun is shining, the smile on your face is blazing and infectious, there's a spring in your step, and everyone notices the sheer intensity of the JOY you radiate! And then, there are days when the shoulders sag a bit, the pace is slower, the energy is "mustered" instead of "free-flowing," and on some of those days, every step is a sacrifice. (And some steps even make you bleed.)

Yesterday, I was thinking of a brook. And I was thinking about how walking in a brook is a lot like our lives. When we choose to get involved in this life, we step in, and let the life flow around us. There is nothing quite as thrilling as when you put your foot down into the chilling water, and then feel the current hit right at the ankles. Something is jarred inside. It's almost an instant reminder that "YOU ARE ALIVE!" And, with every step, there's something "unexpected," especially when we step into an area where we can't quite see to the bottom...There's always that mystery--is there a fish near my foot? Is there some hidden treasure that has been dropped and gone unfound? Is there gold under my feet?

While these thoughts can be essential in propelling us forward, it is also true that something unseemly might be there lurking, unseen. Trash? A piece of glass? A rusty metal lid? A nail? I remember vividly one lake experience where I stepped on a piece of glass and slit my foot open and had to be rushed to the emergency room for stitches. It didn't make me avoid the lake forever...but ever since then, I have worn shoes.

Certainly, there are people who have a bad experience, a REALLY bad experience, and are reluctant to take another step at risk of personal injury or pain. But, in good time, in a reasonable amount of time, that person must be encouraged, pushed even, to step out and try again. Because every step is not the same. Every step is guaranteed to be different.

If we could see everything, it wouldn't be nearly as thrilling. If we chose to just stand there, and let life go by, never taking a step, it would get old (and we might just as well be standing on the bank, as much good as it's doing us). No, the thrill of it all is the movement of it all. Even the risk of it all. Every single day of it all.

No matter the type of day, the psalm that best suits us, we must never forget that the thrill of life, the nature of it, is never knowing what the next day will hold...and letting the mystery unfold is part of what is most alluring about our life experience.