The stream

It’s raining tonight. My husband is putting my toddler to bed, my baby is already asleep. The yellow lab is curled up like a croissant on the carpet — and I? I am being still.

Ahh.

The sweet sound of silence and rain echoing against the chimney. The water was falling fast and hard, but now it’s subsided to a rhythmic, steady shower. A stream is slowly forming across our stone front pathway and I am reminded of a blog post I read today.

It quoted this scripture:

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose hope is in the Lord.
He is like a tree planted beside the waters that stretches out its roots to the stream:
It fears not the heat when it comes, its leaves stay green;
In the year of drought it shows no distress, but still bears fruit.
– Jer 17:7

I want to be like a tree. All rooted and full of wisdom… and squirrels. But seriously, I have found that as a mother and wife there is no better peace than knowing I don’t have to do it all on my own. There is something much greater than me that strengthens me, nourishes me and helps me grow perfect fruit.

And all I have to do is reach out for the stream.

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