The river of life is the journey that we take from birth to death, forever evolving, forever meandering with seasons and droughts. At birth we are put on the path with no road map or guides, we are told no warnings of what to expect or of the dangers that lie in wait for us.
As we travel along that river of life we will often find ourselves covering all sorts of terrain, we go over hills of all sizes, sometimes we find ourselves climbing over big rocks and at other times walking over pebbles.
Sometimes we pause to take in the beauty and at others we run from wasps and creatures that smell a delicious dinner. We pick up flowers and bring them to our noses inhaling their sweet scent, we get sad seeing a creature fallen before us or skeletons of past travellers along the road.
If we’re lucky we will bump into fellow travellers along the way and they guide us over the really difficult parts while at other’s there’s not another soul in sight.
Through it all though there are those precipices, the times when we pause and take a look at both sides of the river and notice that the one we are walking on is not as colourful as the one on the other side, the river is mostly dry where as towards the other side it flows with a steady pace.
The precipice is what separates you from the other side of the river. There is no bridge to quickly cross to the other side so you find yourself sitting with a decision that could change your whole journey.
Option one is that you continue walking on the same path with no guarantees that you will find that desired bridge. The word “Maybe” keeps one foot in front of the other as you walk along the barren land.
Option two is that you cross the rocky danger infested river bed that has demonic creatures and monsters from the past, obstacles and challenges that you must face in order to get to the other brighter side. The river could claim your life, you could break a few bones, old wounds will scratch open and bleed.
We all swing between these two options in all instances we come across in life. The decision to cross the river might be sometimes easier than others, sometimes it can be so scary that we opt to walk a little longer on the drought barren path building up courage to take the first step over the edge.
Ultimately we have to cross to the other side or we allow our souls to become barren and dry, colourless and dead. All change is necessary, no matter how long we take, no matter how far we try to run from it.
Cross the river and face the demons that lurk, bleed through old wounds and keep going over the obstacles, slay the monsters and get to the other side… For once on the other side you emerge stronger, your spirit is lifted and you once again can smell the true sweet scent from the flowers, the scent of life you had forgotten existed.