Yesterday morning, it was raining. A slow, easy, warm rain, that makes you want to wake up slow and wander aimlessly through a forest. Chesh and I got up early, and paddled out with a group of college students to the middle of the bay. Chesh had been volunteered to lead a morning devotional on the lake. We took our kayaks and floated out, the rain dripping down our noses in silent streams.
The mist on the water was so calm, slowly weaving its way between the trees, ever so often revealing cabins or docks, before swallowing them up again. The sky and the water met and there was nothing between them and the mist.
“I want you to think and meditate on the water. The flow, the movement of it all around you.”
“I want you to focus on the sound of it. The feel of it. What is it saying to you?”
“Think of how water sustains us. We float in it, it falls on us, we drink it. Meditate on our reliance on water.”
“Think about how God created us to have a deep intimate relationship with water.”
“God loved us so much that he gave us water. Beautiful, flowing, freezing, inking, falling, flowing water.”
I let my eyes close and my head fall back, the rain tickling my nose and running down my face like happy-beautiful tears. God is here. Leaking down from heaven in rain and mist and puddles and waves and just to whisper ‘I love you’.