The Monthly Note
July 2012
Like when we meet a stream
«Open my eyes that I may see wonderful thing» Psalm 119
by Denis Gagnon, OP
It was a little stream, almost a brook. In his path, it came from the village next door. It crossed our village edging its way under the bridge. It would then go on its way towards the river, adapting itself to the imperfections of the land before it. Willows would form a guard of honour on almost all of its path. Some days, the wind would make them sway. In these days, we had the impression that the stream would hiss more than usual.
The water was beautiful. It came to us clear and fresh, pure as crystal. Pollution had not yet reached this little corner of paradise. The stream was in good health. The daisies and dandelions took advantage of it; they grew in great numbers between the trees. The stream was only a stream but we called it «The River», with capital letters. We gave it nobility especially that it was the only of its kind in the region. Only the river had a majesty of its own.
The quiet presence of our stream made us think that it preferred to be discreet. During the long winter months, it was in complete silence. In the spring, it would wake up without rushing. It spent summer lazing about, quietly adapting itself to the rain and taking advantage of the sun. In the fall, it would stir a little in the fall, but just a little. A calm life, a story without a story...With the passing years, our steam became for me an image of God. Nothing less. It all started a day of internal conflict. Everything was going wrong in my life. Sitting at the edge of The River, my feet in the water, I cried. Without noticing it, I was praying.
The stream inspired me. Would God cross my life discreetly like the River? Is He present in my life like this stream who, naturally, calms me in my stormy days? Without marvel, without miracle? I never found out when our stream originated. It is the same with the mystery of God: He comes from elsewhere, infinitely elsewhere...The stream flows in the river. And God: He flows in Creation, in our internal landscapes, in our encounters, in humanity’s epic...The stream has its seasons: God also. Or rather, He adapts to our internal seasons. He is so close to us that we have the impression that He is not present. And yet...He takes on our tragedies. He travels the fields of our happiness and slides down the hills of our problems. Like the stream, He is part of the scenery. He doesn’t impose Himself; rather, He offers Himself.
During the summer, during cloudy days and during sunny days, let us take time to notice God throughout the seasons. Like when we meet a stream...
