Psalm 36:7-9
How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
8 They feast on the abundance of your house,
and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
9 For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light.
I drank from the river of God’s delights today. It led. I followed. Off the sidewalk. Onto the icy trail–setting aside caution for the sake of seeing what waited there for me.
I knelt on limestone steps and drank from that river of delights, flowing with living moss (its thriving, brilliant green rousing me to praise) and delicate crystals of ice (dancing in the light).
The river of delights held me there (time doesn’t press here; the current simply carries and caresses), and I began to wonder at how often I’ve relegated delight to children.
Has delight seemed frivolous? Or just impossible?
And so I’ve watched, at a distance, as the children have knelt at the river’s edge. I’ve watched as they’ve drunk deeply–awe in their eyes at the simplest of joys. Mom, mom, come look!
God’s river of delights, meandering through every moment of our lives, is for all of us. Young and old alike. So today I drank.
Won’t you kneel down, for just a moment, and drink deeply too?
Come, Lord Jesus, come. The river of delights leads us to you–the light of our lives. Let us drink deeply, and then rise up to praise you. Amen.