Be Like Roots in a Stream

Blessed are those who put their trust in God,
with God for their hope.
They are like a tree planted by the river
that thrusts its roots toward the stream.
When the heat comes it feels no heat;
its leaves stay green.
It is untroubled in a year of drought,
and never ceases to bear fruit.

                  ~ Jeremiah 17:7-8

I’m sure you know that Wisconsin is in the midst of a draught. Two-thirds of Wisconsin is in a moderate drought, but in Racine and Kenosha county it is considered severe. This winter alone we are sixteen inches below the average snowfall. Draught elicits images of dryness, barrenness, deserts, cracks in the earth, brown and brittle leaves, a lack of growth, aridness, even death.

Just as the earth can experience a draught, it is also possible for people to experience a spiritual draught.  Describing this might look similar to describing a physical drought, but I'd add words like exhaustion, emptiness, lonely, confused, struggling, burnt out, fragile, maybe even hopeless. 

It feels to me right now like many people I know are in as much of a draught as our land. People I typically experience as vibrant, energetic, optimistic and hopeful seem to be lackluster and simply dragging through the days.

We could blame the pandemic, as we're apt to blame it for so much these days. But spiritual draughts have always been part of life. It is no one’s fault – life ebbs and flows in this way. Stuff happens. We get overwhelmed or consumed with anxiety and worry. We struggle with illness, or family with health problems. We burn the candle at both ends and suddenly we find ourselves weary, fried, our soul turning a dry, brittle brown instead of a luscious, growing green.

It’s no wonder God is often described as Living Water, or an inner wellspring, or the River of Life. Rivers and bodies of water around the world are considered sacred – the Jordan, the Ganges, the Columbia River in the United States, and many more. The image of thirsting for God is seems an appropriate way to speak of our need for spiritual sustenance, and our yearning for connection and help from the Universe.

For the Taoists, water symbolizes the vital energy of life. We live in an ocean of energy which surrounds and supports us, and this energy flows within us. We all know this, and science has confirmed it. When I open my hands and still myself on Sunday morning, I can feel the energy present in me and around me. If I am quiet enough wherever I am, I can feel the unseen river of spirit. Occasionally it catches me unawares, but usually I have to go looking, and I am never disappointed, it is always there. On Sundays, I pray to be filled and pray to be a conduit so the energy that fills me might also flow out of me. Taoist Chuang Tzu describes it this way:

To be poured into without becoming full

And to pour out without becoming empty,

without knowing how this is brought about…

This is one of those hard sermons to write because what I want to describe to you is really beyond words. I have felt barren and empty and dry as a dessert. Typically, continuing to push through, ignoring the dryness and hoping it goes away, doesn’t work. It just gets worse. It’s in stopping, in relaxing the mind and the heart, in opening to the vital energy of life that I can feel it’s presence and draw it into myself. Sometimes I literally picture absorbing it into my hands or up through the earth and into my feet. I’m reminded that it is always there, I just become too preoccupied to notice, to absorb.

A key part in this is letting go, or perhaps as the scripture suggests, trusting. We have to let go of our need to control, our need to worry, our doubt, our racing minds and open to the energetic River of Life, float in it, drink from it.

Mark Nepo describes this energy as luminous energy. Actually, he says there are two types of energy – intensity and luminosity. Intensity is an energy of doing – it can be intoxicating, catching us up in a need to accomplish, to figure things out, to press ahead.

Luminosity, on the other hand is an energy of being that can fill our souls with light, gratitude, peace. It connects us with the pulse of the universe and reminds us that we are part of it. It is moist, refreshing wetness for our dry souls. Luminosity happens when we so completely enter a moment that we feel filled, buoyed, whole – as if we have risen above the chaos and craziness of life… or maybe we’ve dived deeper into the depths of the Spirit. Sometimes it happens when you find yourself in a zone – runners can feel this, or musicians feel it when the music seems to flow effortlessly. Sometimes I’ll feel it when I’m preaching. But more often I need to be still, listen, and feel.

In his book, The Exqusite Risk, Mark Nepo describes his encounters with luminous energy this way: “[J]ust last week, in a small place, I was listening to a folksinger when a part of his song opened something and I realized I have never been happier, have never been more in love, never closer to the fragile pulse of things. But the opening didn’t stop there. It drew me in until, like leaning over the edge of a cliff, the feeling took me down to the beginning and I realized that loving… others is where it began... It comes and goes, this sense of mystery that surrounds us. Just now, this morning, over coffee, it is raining, gently. And the birds are beginning to sing, our dog curled in my space. For some reason, I’ve fallen again into the quiet basin of my heart where all loves mix… The light rain at the window is saying, Don’t. Don’t think too hard – just swim.”

Such wonderful advice - don't think too much about why a moment is so beautiful and precious that it waters your dry, arid soul, just swim! Just enjoy every moment of it. Perhaps your moment will happen when you are alone watching the sunrise, or perhaps your grandchildren, or your pets will lift your spirits. Perhaps digging in the dirt is what restores your soul, or perhaps it is music, time with a good friend, or doing something creative. There are many ways to put your toes in the River of God and soak up the life-giving energy.

I encourage you to pay attention to how green and growing you are. And if you aren't, then it is up to you to intentionally sink your roots in the stream. Take time to pause, to be, to appreciate, to quench your thrist in the energy that nourishes, heals and fills.

Love & Light! 

Kaye