I’m a Waterfall
The rocks grew more slippery the closer we got. Already my shin ached with a gash where trusted footing betrayed. Still we were determined. Lovers that must defeat the roar of crashing water from the jagged cliffs above in order to get to the hidden place behind. Glowing rays from the sky made the waters gleam like glass casting tiny rainbows in every watery direction. We inhaled the mist and let it glisten with glow across our faces. My favorite place in the world. Waterfall exploring.
Fast forward 7 years, 10 months and a smattering of days…
Last February on a family vacation, I researched all the waterfalls in the area and quickly deduced that my illness of seven and a half years, would again prevent me from my favorite adventures. I bit back tears and sent my family off with a treasure map to all the most dramatic falls. I closed the door behind them.
Party of Pity: Invitation for one?
I won’t lie. I whined, cried, induced a migraine, licked my wounds, sang a dirge and stopped short of throwing dust on my head (sack cloth was a consideration though). Pouting complete, I decided to put away the “why me?” and climb onto Papa’s lap. The King of Undiscovered Galaxies was waiting for little ol’ me to quiet down and get close.
Slowly and clearly, He whispered words from my identity statement.
“…I am intertwined with my Messiah. His living waters fill me and I am an oasis for the thirsty, a waterfall that overflows on to those around me…”
I am a waterfall.
Currently, I cannot hike mountains and climb behind waterfalls, but He says I am a waterfall. With this, a mysterious revelation sprang forth like a tender, green sapling deep in my spirit.
The revelation of being not doing.
I am someone who has quite enjoyed the work of her hands, enjoyed being capable, loved being a visionary and executioner of said visions. When I learn new things, I am eager to apply them immediately. Doing has been my companion. Yet here I am, doing has been stripped away and I am left to ask… who am I?
On His lap, safe and open, He answers the question. I take in His truth and I let go of mine. He speaks…
“Just be. All that I have sewn inside of you over your years on the Earth is enough. It is already in you, I am in you. Let yourself expand beyond the limitations of doing, BE an oasis, BE a waterfall.”
The art of being is not concrete, not quantifiable, that I have been able to tell. Words fall terribly short to define it, but it’s fruit is living from an inner Shabbat (see previous blog: 6th Sunset). It’s fruit is a cessation of striving. Of course, doing must happen in some capacity if you are alive, but when it is no longer necessary to define purpose or worth, the doing flows more naturally, more abundantly.
Much like morning Shacharit prayers. They can be done robotically, murmured and marked off my list while I move to the next thing. Or, I can let them flow like rushing waters over well-worn rocks, the ancient melodies flowing from my lips and joining with so many across time and regions. So many who have sung the same minor keys with morning raspy voice to the Creator of All. Now, I am being.
In what ways can you let go of striving? Release control. And just be.