Waters still

"Still waters run deep" he said of this shy seventh grader,
my awkward-years principal.

These hazel eyes harboring swirling eddies of thoughts and feelings and perceptions know no other way to see Truth but as a reflection in a mirror.  Though these eyes know this truth they pretend to see faces, to know more than what has been given.  As Eve, I too would have chosen the tempting fruit of knowledge in the Garden, paving the pathway for Christ to descend into this world,

to change still water to wine,

to transform humanity at the most elemental of levels.

Thinking that I see, I speak too quickly, and then, only after speaking, remember to be still.

It happens earlier now and differently.  I was seven grades and mangled and he is seven years, perhaps his surface-journey stonier but in person and struggle neither one less worthy in the eyes of the Father.

Beneath the surface is his unsettledness with himself, with identity and security and worthiness.

These life-eddies serve a purpose, and I am reminded of a lesson should-have-been-learned from years of river canoeing: the waters still reveal depth and calmness; the waters swirling, encumbrance beneath.

Somewhere in his heart he knows the easier place to be is with Jesus but perhaps has yet to learn the beauty of Life in life, and this knowledge I have hard-learned and possess for the giving.  And so, as though the watery depths have divided to show ground to travel on for a moment together, to reveal the churning of the deep without surface-ripple distraction, the only words of importance spoken thus far in paragraphs of conversation.

"You are special," I say.

His glance turns downwards, holding back tears, the not-so-still water willed not to course down rosy cheeks and clenched jaw.  His mother fights not as valiantly and her eyes well, hands to face to catch unfallen tears.  I allow myself to feel just partly in this personal moment in professional place and dry eyes swirl.

"Be still and know that I am God," He says.

It is in this stillness I know Him more and invite Him to become more, in myself and in the other.

Even with the currents visible, mine and yours and ours together,

may my life be more of waters still, knowing.

1 Corinthians 13:12; Genesis 3; John 2:1-11, 14:6; Exodus 14:21-22; Psalm 46:10