How long have I been silent, watching, listening, observing the signs around me, holding my thoughts like treasure of great value. I have been patient for so long, a weary traveller waiting to cross.
Our separate journeys have merged together, a point in time, a holy place, a place of expectation and reverence. Silent pilgrims, broken and honed by the distance covered.
Across the river the snow is melting on the towering mountain peaks, fuelling the river into a frenzy, ever flowing wider and deeper.
Oh to reach that place, to feel the fresh murmurings of spring, the Spirit of God blowing over the land. Yet, separating us from the distant promise, the river flows, deeper and wider still. To reach the other side involves faith and courage, for none have ever reached the far bank when the river was shallow, in low flow; the only way is by faith, jumping in, out of your depth.
Now is the time, the moment to cross, to be out of your depth.
The melt water itself flows due to the Spirit warming the land,
For there is no crossing without faith, they run together hand in hand.
John Lowton
January 2023
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