“Come to the River, all who are thirsty.” We Are The River! We are your refreshment, your restoration, your rest, your cleansing! Not… Nothing or Nobody Else! Just Us!
I stand on the river bed, a bed of pebbles and stones and dried wood. The plants of the river are long dead. I am not alone. As I look there are others, standing. What for?
I am waiting for The River to return. A river that once trickled, sometimes, flowed and very occasionally raged like white water. The River I had in mind dried up long ago. It refreshed, renewed, restored then, but has now dried up. It is as if a drought has come and stayed.
As I look in the cloudless sky with no sign of the rain I long for, I begin to see. Like a laser beam piercing my mind and my heart, I start to understand. The River was the wrong river. It was never going to stay, for it was made of man made things, things that pretended to be The River while not being the river – religious rules, regulations, expectations, demands; valid spiritual practices that become routine, duty, habit devoid of life, of water.
And then out of nowhere, large, cold drops of rain appear. Slowly and deliberately the rain increases into a deluge. And between my toes and around my feet, The River forms and flows. My tired feet and legs are suddenly shocked into refreshment and vigour.
And I realise that this is The River! The River! What is The River? Who is The River? It is YHWH! My God! Papa, Mama and Yeshua The Christ! The Mysterious three-in-one! They are The River! My River! My Source of all that is good and fresh and real!