During a few moments of quiet reflection in our church service two weeks ago, I was wondering about the blog post I would be writing that Sunday evening (see “Small Beginnings” July 11 post). Wondering as in “what am I going to write about this week?” with the appropriate edge of whine that comes with writers’ hiccups.
Given that this blog is all about our heart, which is the wellspring of our life, God gave me a gift in the midst of my reverie in the darkened sanctuary. As I consciously leaned into Him in those moments to hear from Him, the most beautiful waterfall appeared in my mind’s eye.
The fall started from way up high, His shed red blood spilling over the cusp with all the mightiness a large, free-flowing waterfall displays. About midway down His blood thinned out in softer shades of rose and soft pink until it melded into the most crystal clear rushing water I’ve ever seen. Such clarity; such power; such grandeur – all viewed in the three or four second glimpse I was privileged to capture.
In those split seconds my heart was once again smitten by the overwhelming love of Jesus, my Savior. The love of One who went to the cross and gave His life’s blood for me and for you – that precious, cleansing, healing, powerful blood. Followed by the torrent of crystalline water that ended in frothy, joyful splashing as it finished its long drop, it was for me a perfect picture of Heaven’s shower.
Interestingly enough, the shower (the morning scrub-a-dub-dub kind) is the place I often sense what Holy Spirit is speaking to me. A flash of insight here, an unfolding of scripture there…there’s just something about the flow of the water over the top of my head all the way down that gives a drink, as it were, to my spiritual senses.
One morning several months ago, a prayer came to me in the form of a two-stanza poem. As I share it here with you, freely it came to me, so freely I give it to you to become your heart’s prayer, too, if you so desire. I entitled it simply, “The Shower Poem,” quickly sketched on a piece of paper in the bedroom wrapped in a towel and hair plastered to my head. Aren’t you glad He communes with us even in our worst-looking moments?!
Flow, O Living Water, wash over and bathe me
Cleanse me from all doubt, all fear, and sin
Wash through and through with no stain yet remaining
Until I’m pure and fully cleansed within
Correct my course that I just like an arrow
Steady and skillful in Your marksman’s hand
May like that arrow fly, no hesitation
Straight on and true,
Deep in your heart to land.
The picture of Jesus’ waterfall two Sunday nights ago is the perfect capstone to that prayer. There is power in the blood. There is life in the water. And because of both, we live.
Splashing in His life-giving flow,
“And he showed me a pure river of water of life, bright as crystal, coming forth out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.” Revelation 22:1 LITV