This time of year my thoughts always turn to canoeing. I have been privileged to canoe or raft on some fine rivers: the Mulberry, the Illinois, the Buffalo, the Cossatot, the Kings, the Ocoee, the Nantahala, the Pigeon, the Hiwassee, Lee's Creek, Webber's Creek. I am most composed and peaceful on the banks of a creek or river. There's just something that the sound of flowing water does for me, even if it's up way too high to float, and it's all muddy, frothing foam. Of course the cold, clear spring-time rivers are my favorites, but often, they're too cold to float. Even so, I love them and would like to immerse myself in their clear flowing sweetness.
I think often of what Heaven will be like, and I'm hoping my fine old Victorian with the full wraparound porch will be on the banks of a clear flowing river. Well, actually, I know it will be on the banks of a clear flowing river. "And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as a crystal, proceeding from the throne of God and of the Lamb." When I think of the beauty of our earthly rivers and the peace that flows from them into me, I can barely wait to float down the River of Life. But, you know, I don't want to be in a canoe. I want to float down it on my back buoyed up by only the will of God. I want to roll and float and immerse myself in the River of Life. I want to drink deeply of its waters and let it roll into my mouth and across my eyes. I want it to drip from my hair. I want to be saturated with it. I can't wait; I just can't wait to roll along in that pure water of the River of Life which is clear as crystal and feel it's cold refreshing, knowing that it comes from the source of life itself.
I don't want to just cross it. I want to drink from it, bathe myself in it, immerse myself in it and be eternally refreshed, and then at the end of the day, I will rise up from the water, and I will sit on my wrap around porch and drink my sweet peach tea and stroke my cats and hold my Sweet Stacey's hand, and listen to the heavenly choirs practicing up for singing their eternal praises of the Lord of Hosts.
How could I not be perfectly calm and perfectly at peace living in my home made for me by the author of peace and sitting on the banks listening to the rolling gurgle of my river, my very own river...the River of Life. I am so grateful to be written in the Lamb's book of life so I will get to inherit my wrap around porch on the banks of the River of Life.