Like a River in my Soul

This post is part of today's One Word Blog Carnival…hop over to Bridget's to read more posts about this week’s word-peace.

Once upon a time there lived a happy family. They made their home in a place where rivers run into the bay...some of the happiest days and hours and moments of their lives were spent aboard their boat on one such river. The boat was always squeaky clean since the Mr. Captain loved to polish and shine. And there were food and drinks aplenty on this boat because the Mrs. First Mate saw that it was so.

The mermaid child and the golden haired miss…. they are there too in the river memories. Their tote bags packed with hats and books…brightly colored towels, flipflops and sunscreen. The mermaid child and the golden haired miss…the fair skinned beauties.

Bumpers stored, hats tightened, ropes let loose. A careful hand on the wheel as the boat slipped from the dock and floated gently down the river. There was a place where the river grew wide and it soon came into view. “Everybody holding on?” was yelled over the wind and the water and the engine as the Mr. Captain accelerated and the boat seemed to fly. The happy family would laugh and let the wind blow their hair and the sun hit their faces and the water splash their skin until the flying slowed and they were once more floating round one bend and then another. The Mr. Captain knew the river well, where the water ran deep and the sand ran high.

And then they were there. In Red House Cove. No other boats, no other people, just still water and soft silence. The quiet hum of the boat's motor settled as the anchor was dropped and they let the silence of this space wash over them all. How lucky they were. So very many boaters on the river near the bay, but not here... Red House Cove was like a secret space, unspoiled and serene.

The sun rose higher and the air grew sticky and hot. They spent time swimming and napping and thinking. They watched a blue heron whose home was in the marshy grass at the waters edge. They had long talks and they made big plans. Worries seemed smaller here…dreams seemed more than possible. And in this place of quiet beauty God felt close enough to touch.

The clock ticked and the anchor was lifted. With reluctance the slow ride back began. They liked to watch the water sparkle as the sun danced one final waltz upon her surface. They marveled at God’s creative genius streaked like paint across a fiery sky. They wondered how a world could ever deny Him...'The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the works of His hand.' Psalm 19:1

Peace wrapped itself around each one like a warm soft blanket. It settled in the soul. No words were needed. None were spoken.