Borrowed Breath

Have you ever walked through the woods during the dry summer months and come up on a stream that is almost dried up?  The lack of rain and the summer heat has consumed almost all the water.  And where there is water, it is a dirty-looking pool with scum on the surface and mosquitoes breeding on it.  It is lifeless and ugly.

But what happens when a torrential thunderstorm comes through?  The rain falls, and as the run-off from above it comes down the mountain, this pool that looked so terrible begins to fill up.  As fresh rain water fills the pool, the dirty, old water is forced out.  The stream that so recently looked so bad now flows with new freshness and fervor.  The flowing water almost laughs as it bubbles downward, ever downward. 

And the wonderful thing about new-found life is that this pool that has been refreshed by the rain seeks to lower itself, always lowering, which enables it to bless those pools below who are also in need.  

Once, while walking thru the wood,
I came upon a stream-bed.
By its languid pool I stood,
Which wasn’t being fed. 

Its stagnant waters stood still,
Longing for a current,
Yearning to again be filled
By a raging torrent.

     How like my heart is to this pool,
     Cut off, slowly drying.
     Once my soul’s creek was full,
     Now it’s swiftly dying. 

When the cleansing rain descends
Upon this dried-up stream;
And moisture is renewed again,
Reversing drought’s extreme. 

Refreshing water starts to flow
Into this pool once more.
Signs of life begin to show
Within its shrinking shores.

     When my soul is in this case,
     And I cry out to the Lord,
     He relieves my drought with grace
     By mercy and love outpoured. 

As water pours down the mountain,
The pace and flow increase;
Like countless, endless fountains
Whose waters do not cease. 

Instead it swells within its banks,
Sweeping all that’s in its path;
Bubbling over with songs of thanks.
I’m sure I heard it laugh.

     When Jesus flows thru my heart,
     Forcing out the death within,
     He fills every empty part,
     With the Water of Life again. 

This stream which once was failing
Within this wilderness,
Now flows, one design prevailing–
Longing other streams to bless. 

It does not want to merely keep
This life-giving cache.
But humbly lower pools it seeks,
So they can be refreshed.

     When our souls have been refreshed,
     We find that by God’s grace,
     In blessing others, we are blessed
     When we take the lowest place.