I went to the creek to declutter my mind, to sit on a log and listen to the rush of water over mossy rocks. I went to perhaps spy a pheasant or a beaver. I went to rest alone and let God cleanse me of muddled ideas, busy schedules, and burdens carried. You can cast your burdens on Him like the trout fisherman who wade in and throw the line. You can stand as still as a stone and let God move; you do nothing but receive the sunlight on your face and the sound of water in your ears. You sit carefully upon a log that’s mostly hollowed out and home to something. You arise much later, hollowed out yourself and ready as a vessel floating on the water.
