There’s a nature trail in the woods not far from our house where I enjoy spending time alone with God. It’s like entering another world as my feet abandon pavement for soft earth and I venture deeper into the canopy of trees. The sound of cars is soon drowned out by the busy chattering of birds and squirrels. The forest begins to speak a story of God’s creation, virtually untouched by man.
I come upon a dry creek bed (known as a “crik” where I grew up). In contrast to the haphazard forest floor which resembles an overgrown Chia pet, the flat stones of the creek look as if they were intentionally laid there one-by-one. For a moment I marvel that God would design such a perfect place for water to flow through the middle of chaos, but then I realize that the creek probably once looked exactly like the rest of the forest floor. It was the work of the water, over time, that washed away the earth, exposing and polishing the stones underneath.
We are God’s creek bed, beginning as a beautiful but chaotic mess, covered with earthy stuff that needs to be washed clean. His living water exposes us, polishes us and then uses us to deliver water to others. It may take days, it may take years… it may take a lifetime. We can’t make this happen any faster than God intends, but the rate of our transformation can be affected by the type of water we allow in our banks. “Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water?…No, and you can’t draw fresh water from a salty spring.” (Jas. 3:12) If we who are thirsty, allow ourselves to be filled up with the “bitter” water of selfish, worldly pleasures, there will be no room for “fresh,” living water.
A creek does not concern itself with being productive, it simply receives and releases. A creek doesn’t flow—water flows. It’s the same with us… we commit to make ourselves available, and let Jesus flow.