Things are changing here in Humphrey.
Boxes are getting taped left and right, people are asking more questions, stopping to catch up,
There are things to pitch , things to clean,
But some things are ever the same, and steady.
One of these wonderful things happens to be my 10 year old.
Though slightly disheveled at first glance, take a walk with her and underneath her crumpled culottes is a well of wisdom far beyond her years.
She asked me to take a walk with her to the brook nearby our house.
Who could resist, I thought, the sun making periodic appearances through the clouds, the wind rustling the trees and…….. the water.
The water is cool and rushing and calls us out of our packing for a walk.
She takes the inside and I the spot closest the road and smile as I think that I would take any hurt and shield her. What a joy she is to have, to love, to teach and most of all to learn from.
And we hop the guardrail and sit on the concrete and just dangle.
We begin to sling some smooth stones in the brook and laugh as one of us who will remain nameless has no.aim.
The stones plop and the water rolls and the wind blows her hair to and fro.
And I listen as she tells me how she loves to come here and catch craw dads.
I sigh and wonder why after such a short time the Lord would move us away from the country.
She then tells me of a story that she read in school.
I am all ears.
It is called “The Song of The Brook,” and it is the story of a young girl who always flees to the brook for comfort and each time she does the brook seems to have a different song for her in it’s rolling.
Once when she was mad as a hornet the brook seemed to chant, “Do not be angry, everything will be alright.” And yet another time she was sad and lonely and it calmed and reassured her again.
The Spirit taps me on the shoulder and I ask her,
“What song do you think our brook is telling us?”
She stares ahead almost searching the unknown and feeling a little lost like I am lately.
I speak up, “I think it is telling us, Everything will be alright, Just trust. “
I watch her face and repeat, “Just trust.”
She almost sluffs off my comment and begins to comment on the rushing of the current and tell me how slippery the green moss is in the Spring and how she dispised taking her little sister with her for her walks on the rocks because she slipped and fell more times than not.
She then tells me that she loves the fact that the water just flows. It is willing to just be carried with the current.
“It trusts.” I mumble quietly.
“Yep. It trusts.” She adds.
She proceeds to tell me that the current is like the Master and the water just tumbles over the rocks as the Master wills it.
And it is time to hop the rail and head home.
And I am thankful.
Thankful that I didn’t miss this moment, and the wisdom of a disheveled wavy haired ten year old.
And what God wanted to bless me with today.
And the blessing of the Lord just carried us home.