Jeremiah’s Stream

The gentle trickling of the creek far below softly pulled me from my slumber and stirred my thirst. I had been asleep for ages having become much too comfortable on the top of my hill nestled on a grassy knoll while surveying the landscape.   As I shifted from my seat and stretched out my limbs loud thunderous cracks jolted throughout my body as dried flakes of moss and loose bark went leaping off me. The slow drought had left me vacant to the core as a dry skeleton with no meat and rusty framework. Somewhere between waking and dreaming my body was already lifting up unconsciously waving the risks of moving while so dehydrated as one unbalanced step would doom me to the ground, falling into millions of splinters. Luckily, my unconscious is not without some reasoning and as I awoke into full awareness I pulled myself away from the steep descent and onto an easier slope.

There was a hint of desperation in my motions as I weakly groped for the strong branches supporting my trek down. The trickling creek so far below knew just what words would inspire the instinctual lusts deep in my heart. Yet I reasoned it was not disappearing, and with experienced judgment the rickety roots of my being crawled amongst the forest debris, careful not to move beyond my breaking point since any sudden movement just might have ruptured me. So like a cracking autumn leaf felled by the wind I so lightly descended the hilltop.

The water was so low in the forest and one has to become so low in order to reach it. The pride in my heart was all the while being cut repeatedly as with an ax, and blow-by-blow I was whittled while the consolation in my heart knew that being humbled was an essential piece of this pilgrimage. And as my thirst urged me on, and my soul cried like an infant in despair, I could not think of one single apt reason I’d chosen the top to lay my roots. The rains, they are a fleeting and unreliable comfort; the winds, the lightning, and the hot sun make it altogether unworthy. In a moment of desperation the lowest seat becomes priceless by its security, and it is a favorite spot amongst trees. I had to stoop myself beneath their boughs to find a suitable space, just as careful not to bump one of them as not everyone has the luxury of being able to move. When I found a place on the muddy bank that was well separated from the others I straightened myself and extended my arms towards the sky then slowly crept my legs into the cool water. My bare toes rubbed against the slick stones at the bottom until finding a nook in the rocks and wedged deep into the soft mud underneath for some stability as I drank. The cool liquid was absorbed quickly through my leg and as it flowed upward the healing was palpable. My roots and body expanded as the veins and avenues opened themselves to let as much water in as possible, all while sending color and rich nutrients to every corner of my body, even into my modest leaves and turned them a vivid green.

My conscious was quickly disappearing as the intense satisfaction sucked me into a trance-like state. I would have been happy to hold that position forever while savoring the cool water rushing over my skin in a rapid licking frenzy, and relishing the life I felt in that moment. I closed my eyes and for a while felt the stream carrying me away far beyond the forest, then out into the world and to the great and vast beyond; where the stream ends at its source, and this is where all life flows from. I simply relax and let the current take me.

Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD And whose trust is the LORD.

For he will be like a tree planted by the water, That extends its roots by a stream And will not fear when the heat comes;

But its leaves will be green, And it will not be anxious in a year of drought Nor cease to yield fruit.

Jer. 17

Copyright 2015 Jason S Cooper
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