The Rippling Stream
From the mighty rock falls the purest water in cascades of frothing water as it tumbles with speeds impossible to measure into
the pool beneath. Started from the smallest spring deep within the rock. Some powerful force pushes it upwards until the flow
becomes the torrents that fall forever onwards and downward flowing forward and continuously from fall to pool, to river, to
lake to stream. The constant movements, of life, vitality, but appearing still and tranquil in the lake only to fall suddenly in a
waterfall in rushing and foaming torrents to the lower levels below. The quiet movement of the rippling waters as it flows albeit
slowly across the rock pools and misshapen boulders in to the easier life of mellow streams winding and meandering through
the fields, and trees lined banks in quiet cosy country side.
Where did it come from? Where does this ever-flowing water, which is clear and crystal in the dappled sunlight, where does it
go? To whose life does it touch, cleanse, feed, water, and bring life.
Where will these streams flow? Where, will this water, delicate, cold, fresh, pour? What will it touch? What will it feed? Who
will it wash? Water, is something we cannot live without. Neither can we thrive to our full potential without love, so wherever
the river flows it brings life and love to all.
High inside the mountain it will begin to flow, but as it becomes the gentle flowing river tumbling, rushing, frothing over the
river bed touching large and small mossy or clean rocks the running river continues to wind through wide and narrow spaces.
People can see it; feel it, its wetness, its coolness, and its grandeur. People can marvel at its power. What is its source? Where
will it go?
When the source of the river is found at a spring, is this really the start of the river? I do not think so. When it eventually flows
into the sea and changes from fresh to salt water, is that the end? The sea that washes the coasts of over one half of the earth, is
too large to contemplate but as we grow the wonder remains.
The Rippling Stream: a vision I often see of water falling from the lake above and cascading over the rocks into a pool and
then into the stream. This to me is the picture given by Almighty God as he continuously pours out His love to me.
Throughout my life I have known of His great love. I have often stood apart and let him pass by without any acknowledgement,
but I have always been aware of His presence. When I have got closer to My Father and sat at His feet to listen and to learn I
have known real joy. He has walked with me since the conception of my life and has carried me, taken me by the hand, picked
me up when I have fallen, held me when I have stumbled. Over the past few years I have attempted to write the story of His
wonderful care of me. The healing which he has given to me. Who but God knows what is in the human heart and mind? As I
reach nearly three score and ten years of my life, I feel that I must give written praise to God, in some small way. This is a
testimony of my love for Him and to those people that my stream of life has touched, watched, fed, cleansed.
Sometimes it is sad to recall events from the past, the hurts and pains but without them I would not be ME. Forgiveness as Jesus
forgave us our sins, is the biggest part of the healing process. Forgiving those who willingly or unwillingly hurt us during our
lifetime is extremely important.
I am surrounded by mountains, in a green valley, sitting by my stream, looking at the clear waters, to the bed of the river through
crystal waters, which shimmer in the sunlight. The stones as varied in shape and size as in their number give a gurgling sound to
the water as the rivers passes by.
This is what life is like, a collection of rocks and boulders, some smoothed by time and use, some crowded together or set apart.
All being washed by the water, which has no beginning and no end, flowing continuously, without ceasing as the Father’s
love has always been for us all.
In His love
Jean Barry