Endless Flow

Little children love to be outside. Even a fussy newborn often quiets under an open sky or in a gentle breeze. These days we’ve been taking lots of walks with my young grandchildren, each outing more exciting than a well planned field trip. Preschoolers notice everything from tiny bugs to bits of gravel and beg to stop and watch, touch, discuss.

Today as Skylar, Micah, their parents and I ambled home from the playground, both children preferred walking to riding in the stroller, which slowed our pace considerably but invited us to look at the world from their point of view. Stopping in front of a small child-high fountain became a photo op as they studied the wonder of a never-ending water flow.

The little concrete girl was filling a tub with water from her jug, and we talked about why she might be doing that (maybe to bathe her baby). But it was puzzling that she couldn’t complete her task, because the water just kept coming. But as children so easily do, they accepted that this was the way it was for her, and on we went.

Our local Christian bookstore displays an attention-grabbing item, too: a 16 ounce pop bottle filled with dirty water. Dark particles float in it and sediment rests at the bottom. A sign explains this is the best water many people have. Among other things, they strain it for drinking, an appalling thought. No wonder disease runs rampant and people die young.

One of the ongoing humanitarian efforts of missionaries and others is to bring clean, drinkable water to people who’ve never had it. I think back to biblical days and wonder if the water then was any better than what’s in the plastic pop bottle at the bookstore. Quality water was like gold in biblical times, since that area of the world was (and is) mostly parched desert. Just reading through scriptural stories makes me want to head for the kitchen for a cool drink.

The Bible often uses water in powerful object lessons. One example is Jesus’ conversation with a woman at a community well where he referred to himself as the living water. Another was an Old Testament reference to God being the fountain of life. We also learn we’ll be drinking miraculous water in heaven one day.

The one thing these water images have in common is that they’ll never run dry. When earth’s water-resources have disappeared completely, streams of living water will be flowing still, into us, which means we’ll never go thirsty, not literally and not spiritually. Like the little concrete fountain Skylar and Micah appreciated this afternoon, the life-giving water available through divinity will keep running indefinitely.

The only difference between the fountain-girl pouring into a wash tub and God pouring into us is that her supply comes through a hose connected to a city water tank. And his? His comes from… well… him!

“You [O Lord] give [the children of men] to drink of the river of Your delights. For with You is the fountain of life.” (Psalm 36:8,9)

Hot ‘n Heavy

Three year old Skylar loves to help me walk Jack the dog, holding his leash as we amble the quiet lanes of our subdivision. I’ve schooled her in what to do if Jack sees a squirrel and bolts. “What then, Skylar?”

“Drop it!” she says, demonstrating for me as Jack’s retractable leash flies out of her hand and toward his neck.

Yesterday as we walked along on a stifling afternoon, she asked why Jack’s tongue was hanging out of his mouth.

“He’s hot,” I said. “Dogs do that and pant to feel cooler.”

“Well,” she said, pausing and tipping her head to one side, “then why doesn’t he just take off his black furry coat?”

“He doesn’t know how,” I said.

“Then I’ll show him,” she said. “He has to do the zipper.”

“Can you do it for him?” I said.

“Sure, Grandma Midgee.”

Skylar hunted for several minutes, feeling Jack’s back, chest, tummy, even his legs, while our ever-patient dog stood still and panted.

“I can’t find it,” she finally said. “Can you do it?”

And so I hunted, too, coming up empty. “You know, I don’t think he has a zipper, Skylar.”

“But then how is he going to get his coat off?” she said.

“I guess he can’t.”

“Aww,” she said, sympathizing with his plight. “Poor Jackie.”

Sometimes I think God sees us that same way. We struggle along bearing heavy burdens with our proverbial tongues hanging out, wondering why life is so hard. Is there a zipper, a way to shed the weight? Yes, but we have to take advantage of it.

God’s “zippers” are linked to his promises. If we believe them, we can shed our burdens as easily as throwing off a heavy fur coat on a hot day.

  • For example, if we believe the promise that he’ll work everything out for good, we’ll begin looking for that good, automatically focusing away from the bad.
  • Because he says he’ll always be with us, we’ll begin talking to him more, pouring out our requests and being surprised by his answers.
  • When he promises peace in the midst of chaos, we’ll handle every crisis with calm composure rather than all-out panic.
  • As we believe his promise to forgive us, we’ll be able to move away from damage we’ve caused and start fresh.

These are just a few, but Scripture is jam-packed with promises. It’s God’s love letter to us, filled with good offers to help us live a burden-free life, but it’s our choice. We can cloak ourselves with heavy loads we’re not meant to bear, or we can search for a zipper and throw off what threatens to smother us in favor of a lighter life.

None of us have to end up like poor Jack, weighed down by hot, heavy burdens without a zipper.

“He has granted to us His precious and magnificent promises, so that by them you may become partakers of the divine nature.” (2 Peter 1:4)

A Happy Home Life

Some children grow up without a traditional home, but most of us lived at one address for several years at a stretch, moving only a handful of times while growing up. We were fed, cared for, kept clean and given proper rest in those homes, and we were loved.

Moving away from home can be traumatic for children and adults alike. But the bottom line is not about where but who. If family relationships are grounded in love, a move with the right people is all it takes to calm us.

Linnea and Adam arrived in Michigan this week bringing a home along with them, a motor home. Their borrowed RV made the 1200 mile journey part of their family vacation fun, especially for 3 year old Skylar and 18 month old Micah. This mini-home had everything needed to cover the miles without leaving home: a refrigerator, stove, bathroom, table and benches, couch, cabinets, microwave, shower, even a queen size bed.

And as excited as Skylar was to give me a tour of their home-on-wheels, her most important point was letting me know where Daddy sat to do the driving and what Mommy did in the back. Nice as it was, without those two, it wouldn’t have been a home at all.

Maya Angelou said, “The ache for home lives in all of us,” a good way to describe the desire each of us has to belong to a group bound together by love. I think it even goes deeper than that. All of us want to be accepted as we are, in an environment where no one tries to change us. We want a place to go where the love shown doesn’t depend on our performance like it does when we’re away from home in the work place, in school, in the neighborhood, in certain friendships. We know if there’s a chance for love to be unconditional anyplace, it’ll probably be at home.

Unfortunately, most homes can’t offer that kind of flawless love. We often expect more from each other than can be given, and a perfect home doesn’t exist. Well, that’s not quite true. Those of us who believe in heaven have a perfect home life awaiting us.

I often think of Nate in this regard, not quite sure what phase of heaven or paradise he’s experiencing but quite sure he’s surrounded by unconditional, perfect love. He’s made a big move away from our family home here on earth where love was flawed and is now dwelling in something Jesus labeled “paradise.”

We’ve all heard the expression, “Love begins at home.” That’s literally true. It begins.

Thankfully it doesn’t end there, since disappointments and imperfections are found at every address. Instead we can look forward to an eventual home of loving perfection and complete acceptance. And most importantly, the right Person will be there, ensuring that this place will be the home we’re all aching to find.

And we won’t even need a well-equipped RV to get there.

“They [Old Testament people of faith] were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” (Hebrews 11:16)