A forbidden pleasure as a child was playing in the creek. The forbidden part—my mom was afraid for us to be around the creek because she was afraid of water. Her rule of thumb was simple: stay away from the creek—period. She knew that creeks could be soothing and calm, but they could also become turbulent and chaotic.
No, we didn’t always stay away. With cousins, neighbors, and friends, we had some fun times playing in and around the creek.
Recently, I was able to spend some time visiting the town where I grew up. While I was there, I enjoyed dinner at my younger cousin’s house. She doesn’t live by that same creek anymore—she’s more of a city girl now.
But the property where she and her husband live has a stream bordering their backyard. As we sat on the patio, she mentioned how calming the stream is for her. I told her that made sense, since she grew up beside the creek.
Growing up, most days our creek was calm enough to wade in, play in, and maybe even catch a fish or two. But when the heavy rains came, it could turn into a violent, frightening force.
I remember feeling the power of the rushing water as I walked across the bridge. It was a scary experience, especially when the water came within just a few feet of the top.
We absolutely knew we weren’t supposed to be anywhere near the creek during those times. But as children, we couldn’t help being drawn a little closer—probably too close. There was movement, sound—you could feel the force of it. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, the kind of fear that made your heart race in a way you didn’t fully understand.
Those turbulent waters and heart-racing moments sometimes left us suspended between where we shouldn’t be and where we should.
I think there are situations in our spiritual lives where we drift a little too close to raging waters—drawn in by the pull of something that feels exciting or harmless at first.
We can grow lazy in spending time in God’s Word, or become slack in our prayer life. We start lingering near a worldly, easy-flowing creek—one we’ve been warned about. It seems calm. It seems harmless.
But when the waters begin to rise, we may find ourselves too close, too captivated to pull away. If we’re not careful, those rushing currents have the power to sweep us into places we never intended to go.
We can become so transfixed by the pull and the rush that we lose sight of the safe, solid ground—the place of protection where we belong.
God tells us in His Word that He is that safe place:
“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.” —Psalm 18:2 (KJV)
Life will bring turbulent waters. No matter what creeks we find ourselves near, we should be seeking to depend on God and draw close to Him.
Just like we knew, deep down, not to linger near the creek when the waters were rising, we are given that same awareness in our spiritual lives.
We don’t have to test the waters to understand their strength.
We can choose instead to remain on the bridge—to stay in the safety of the One who sees the current, knows its force, and keeps us secure.
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What is your relationship to the all-knowing God of the universe? Do you know the peace that can come only from an intimate relationship with Jesus? You can know Him. Jesus Christ—God’s Son, born into human flesh, sinless, crucified and giving His life freely, buried, arisen on the third day—will come into your life and change the outcome of your eternity. You just have to be willing to believe and accept His truth. In addition, here is an excellent page that can give you additional information on peace with God: PeaceWithGod.net.
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Blog Image Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay
Restricted Vision, Unburdened Sight 