The Stagnant Pond
All is still. Cars scurry by on nearby 13th street, rushing off to their various destinations. Sitting here at the park I hear the distant laughter of children playing A basketball bounces off the cement court; the clang as it hits the backboard echoes across the grass to where I walk A Cessna drones, far overhead. An occasional jogger puffs by, the slap of his running shoes spanking the pavement.
Activity surrounds me, but my world stands still, as if I’m dreaming or sleepwalking. I observe everyone else’s activities, yet I sit, only my writing hand and pen moving across the page. The stillness provides blessed relief.
I sit on a large, cold, gray rock six feet above a man-made pond; more rocks rim this small pond’s perimeter. The lowest twelve inches of the rocks surrounding the pond are blackened, evidence that the water has receded. The remaining water, brown and stagnant, is filled with yellow-green algae. Its surface is littered with yellow and brown leaves. Small branches broken from the tree overreaching this pond lie lifelessly on its murky surface. Human trash adds to the dismal scene: a red cup, a white plastic fork, a Styrofoam plate, and a half-submerged Coke can.
Lord, today my body and soul feel dried up and wasted like this little pond. I come here for a time of rest, reflection, and renewal. I seek rest—wanting Your strength to re-invigorate my body, I seek peace and quiet to allow Your peace to wash over my mind. I seek Your spirit here in Your beautiful creation, so that Your living water will fill my soul, allowing it to bubble over. Make me a sparkling spiritual pond, not stagnant, not filled with trash, but alive with living water, so clean and beautiful that anyone who thirsts for Your living spirit will drink her fill.
John 4:13-14 “Jesus answered, ‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’”