And it shall be in that day, that living waters shall go out from Jerusalem;
Standing in the water, it feels cold to my hot and tired feet. Shoes off I let the moving stream flow over them. The summer sun beating down on my neck. It's a extremely hot day. Kentucky is hot this time of year anyways, but with no cloud in sight for shade, it seems worse.
I move up the stream a piece to a shaded spot. Sitting on the rock on the bank, I admire this lovely area. The reason I had come to this place to begin with was to find a certain point along the stream. "Not sure what to look for or how to find it," was my only thought while wiping the sweat from my eyes. "Alright, God you know what I came here looking...," and before I could finish that prayer on my breath, there it was. My eyes beheld the site. The site where a location had been hewned out by many feet. The ground concaved in where believers from the past had stood. They had stood waiting to get baptized in that one special place in the stream. Rushing over to it, I stood. Touching the water, I let it roll along my fingertips. The sensation of living waters overwhelmed me.
Before me laid the place where my grandmother's church had baptized new believers. The church building has long since been torn down. The believers gone on to be with our Lord. But these living waters still moved on. The mark of their presence and belief shown here upon the Earth. Waiting for someone to be lead here again.
They weren't baptized in a baptistery or some other way inside. They went to the stream. The bible belt people knew the spiritual significance of the running waters. The waters were alive. If the water sat still, it would become stagnant and nasty. But as long as it ran over the rocks it was pure. The water carrying every bit of trash that fell in it far away.
We should be like the living waters. Never standing still with Christ, but moving toward Him lest we become stagnant and nasty. Like the rocks purified the water, the rocky troubles of life refine and purify our faith. Our sin like that trash in the water is carried down stream and dumped into the river. The river rushes faster into the sea. In the case of our sin, it is distributed into God's sea of forgetfulness. Never to be remembered anymore.
Rising up to stand, my knees popped a little. A sign I guess of the times. No longer as young as I was, but not old either. Just wear and tear of a body abused from working. I waded out into the waters up to my waist. Stepping into that sunk in place in the ground as the water preceded by, I closed my eyes. For a moment, I stood among God's people in heaven. The living waters came up in fountains for everyone to drink from. I could only get a sense of what they were doing. Mine wasn't the time to take that drink with them, not yet. My job still lies ahead of me. Getting out of the water I opened my eyes and proceeded on my way. Looking back I whispered on the breeze that had just now picked up,"I'll be back to drink that water with y'all. I promise." So my job of soul searching continues on in my heart...
For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters:
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