i have lost count of the times i crossed mud browned rivers in flood. skirt tucked between legs… as high as modesty allowed.
bags and boxes carried by strong others. giving me the child’s chance to follow in their footsteps.
shoes kept dry for my destination, raised high in another hand. awkwardly waving them, keeping my balance.
the feel of rocks underneath bare feet…slowly edging my weight from one step to the next, toes straining to feel the warning of slippery.
the heart jolt when my toes missed the signs or a rock rolled painfully under arch–and current pounced.
the relief when i righted myself without falling into downstream…escape from those minutes of fight to get back up. skirt dripping and the need for still two shoes clenched in my hand. the find of my footing and brace against the waters rush again.
i understand the urge to struggle in that moment. to fling yourself about in fear, grasping for something solid, something safe.
and god says be still…
watching rescues in progress i see the requirement to be still. to wait. to let the rescuer get to you. to be bound to a stretcher, immobilized. sometimes gripped by his arms and legs and asked to trust the lifting is to safety.
god is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.
he says, “be still, and know that i am god;
i will be exalted among the nations,
i will be exalted in the earth.”
lord almighty is with us;
the god of jacob is our fortress.
psalm 46 (NIV)