The Refreshing Waters of Grace

When I close my eyes, I can still see it. A waterfall cascading into the depths of a diamond-shaped pool. I’d driven three hours and hiked a trail to see that waterfall. I’d packed water and a journal. The essentials for a writer who knows nothing about hiking but wants to find herself.

Everything in my life felt like it was spiraling out of control. I was trying to break out of a cycle of shame and guilt, and I wanted just one moment of peace where I could escape the noise in my mind and life. 

I wanted a fresh start.

There I sat on smooth rocks, cool to the touch, and watched. I felt like that waterfall, falling uncontrollably into depths I wasn’t sure I could handle. But I was still there despite my doubts.  I found myself alone in that place. A fitting picture of how I felt whether I was hiking or drudging through ordinary life. And I think that’s why driving three hours to see a waterfall by myself didn’t seem like a drastic cry for help from the deepest places of my heart at the time. 

But the truth was, I was hurting. I was falling. I was failing. And I was searching for answers my soul desperately needed.

This picture is from a moment during what I like to call my ‘dark year’. I was a girl, staring at a waterfall, asking God to fix her. I didn’t find answers that day, but when this memory surfaced out of the blue, God showed me something new. (I love His kindness of reminding me I was never as alone as I may have felt.) 

I was the rushing water, flowing toward a climactic moment. A moment that felt like the end of everything. But God. I wasn’t alone, and hitting those depths wasn’t the final chapter. I’d reach the calm and unhurried waters below and experience something greater. I’d experience the miraculous power of grace. 

The fall would cease as I collapsed into what I was supposed to become. Into what I was all along. When I reached the water, He knew it wasn’t the end of the story. It was the beginning of something beyond me, something that scared me at the time. A life surrendered to His plans.   

God didn’t fix me, but He gave me a glimpse of what it means to trust Him in the free fall. I wouldn’t be met by solid rock down below, but a beautiful space to catch my breath and flow slow and steady. To rise to the surface after being transformed by grace, and to see the world around me differently.

I sometimes wonder if the waterfall, looking at the girl sitting on the rocks by herself thought, “Hold on. The fall isn’t the end. Trust me.”

I wonder if God was sitting with me on those rocks? I like to think He was. With an arm around me and a suggestion to pack food next time. I know He was with me as I fell, in the surfacing for breath, and in the gentle flow back to who He created me to be. 

In the same way, I know He’s with you. In the fall, in the inevitable rise, and every point in between. If you’re falling, you’ll be enveloped by the refreshing waters of mercy. If you’re rising, His hand will lift you higher. If you’re sitting on the rocks wondering who you are, He’s right beside you with an arm around your shoulder and a tidbit of wisdom for the road ahead.