Reflections on the surface of the river shift
as the wind glides across
and the current guides along
the water to the ocean.
The surface reflects the different scenes around,
wavering, here and there, from marsh to sky;
changing from earthy greens and yellows to a pale blue.
But between each shift comes a moment of transparency,
a glimpse into the heart of those turbulent waters.
Dark and murky, the depths are unseen, clouded by muck and mire.
The struggles of life and death beneath the shimmering surface remain hidden,
except for the occasional splash;
a school of fish searching for escape from a pursuer;
the breach of a dolphin's backside going for air
from which it is deprived from below.
But You, oh Lord, see the beauty of it all
Your gaze pierces right into those turbulent waters.
Others may see glimpses of the truth,
But you do not wait for the shift on the surface
to see into the depths.
You see past the lack-luster attempts at righteousness,
appearing here and there but never constant, often untrue.
You even see through the cloudy transgressions
that keep away from true beauty;
from Your true beauty;
from my true beauty.
You see clear into my heart.
All of my struggles are laid before you.
You see my flights away from pursuers,
desperate for escape.
You see my burdens, heavy and suffocating,
leaving me gasping for relief.
You see all this, but also beyond
to something that gladdens You: an image of Yourself,
clouded and dirty, but Yours still.
Even more, you see Your Son
welcomed in those turbulent waters.
He dives down deep, letting loose His blood upon my waters.
And what ought to make things worse does just the opposite:
Instead of further murkiness of guilt and shame,
instead of adding to the filth,
His blood consumes it.
And again He dives, deeper each time.
Clarity comes forth in splendor.
These dives, however, do not come without a price.
They were paid for by three nails
And three days.
Yet You offered this currency willingly.
So that above my waters, and above many others,
You could post a sign.
It reads that I am purchased.
It reads that I am won.
It reads that in me He takes delight.
It reads: "I am The LORD's"
And the Lord, rejoicing as He reads His claim, returns to the depths.
His blood is glad to spill from His wounds,
the pain two thousand years gone,
the joy ever-present.
But not only does He bleed,
He breathes.
He breathes in my watery spirit and breathes out His own,
The Spirit flows from His lungs, joining with mine,
mixing and churning,
turbulent and beautiful,
powerful and sweet,
Creating inside me renewed waters,
renewed spirit,
renewed life.
Lord, I ask you to keep working in these turbulent waters
Stay faithful as you have shown yourself to be.
Continue to purify my heart, cleansing me from muck and mire.
Let the new waters of our spirits, one, rise up
at first ankle-deep,
then knee-deep,
then waist-deep,
then so deep one could swim.
Fill me to the brim, that I may have true life, and life to the full.
