Troubled Waters
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From the road, it looked like a scene suitable for a postcard, a pond surrounded by hills and trees. I’m sure the psalmist had such a place in mind when writing about being led to still waters, but when I got out of the car and looked closer, I saw something important. Floating on the top of the pond were lily pads. In other places, algae were mixed with the water. Such things were possible because the water was still. As inviting as the placid water is sometimes, it needs to move if it is to remain healthy.
I thought about the pond and the vegetation growing in it as I drove away. It reminded me how often I have longed for my life to be a still, serene, placid pond, the kind worthy of a postcard. If I pay off all my debt, make these calls, resolve this matter, everything will be perfect, and I can sit back and enjoy life, enjoy peace a quiet. In other words, I long for still waters, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s just dangerous.
Like the pond, I need to keep the water moving. I need to keep bringing new water in and allowing old to flow elsewhere. To do so demands effort and a willingness to live with churned up water, but it’s better than allowing algae to grow.
There’s a wonderful spiritual that speaks of God troubling the waters. I used to think that was a bad thing. How can the God who leads us to still waters be the same who troubles the water? Now I know that troubling the waters is how God keeps the waters fresh, and me healthy. Remembering the pond and the importance of keeping the water flowing, I find it easier to accept challenges and uncomfortable tasks or conversations as the price for healthy water.
I don’t necessarily like it, but I know I need it.