Of Rocks and Rivers

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River. Moving water, flowing water, living water. The site of baptism, the origin of civilization, the source of life. And in the middle, rocks. Hard as stone, solid, seemingly immovable, reliable. Foundation. The stuff on which churches get built.

The waters may not move the larger stones, but they shape them. Smooth out the rough edges. Go around, over, even through them. But it doesn't happen overnight; it takes time. Days. Years. Millennia.

Holy Jesus, my rock and my life source, help me not to be in such a hurry. Teach me to sit and wait in patience, listening to the babble of the stream for that sound, that voice, of sheer silence. Ground me firmly. And let the waters of my baptism shape me constantly, smoothing out my rough edges, so that your church might be built. Amen.