When I was very young and lived in Oregon, I thought waterfalls were as common as apple trees, but as soon as we moved I realized how special the unique beauty they offered truly is. First you hear the rumble, then the roar. It's a natural sound of power, similar to wind tossing about in mighty trees. Then you come upon it. Rocks have fallen in the water's path, immovable obstacles. The very foundations of the earth. But the water will not be stopped. It surges over and around the boulders, seething with the effort, rising when necessary. Though it may falter, it will find a way. Water, the very stuff we rely upon, that we bathe our infants in, exerts its might.
And over time, the sharp edges of the rocks begin to dull. Some may tumble away, some never will, but still the water flows. And when it has passed the drop, moved over the boulders, it collects, crystal clear and ice cold in a pool as still and silent as the trees that watch over it.
The image struck me as a physical example of what love is in this world. It is not always well received. It often faces immovable barriers. Hate and terrorism may not listen, and they may strike with a violence that is sharp and heavy. But over time, love will win. It cannot be stopped, it cannot be smothered. And it is, in it's quiet persistence, the most powerful force on earth.
My Lord, I love you. I love that you're love. And I love that although the ugly in this world may strike with the speed of hateful vengeance, your love is stronger and your love wins. Thank you for the beauty you put in this earth to remind us of you. Wash me in your love, oh my Dearest. All my heart, all my self, is yours.
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