by Karen L. Oberst
Musings when sitting beside Lake Ontario Monday May 15, 2006
Lord, you are like the lake.
Stretching to the horizon.
The waves roar in.
They fill my senses - sound, sight, smell.
Their constant rhythm
As perfect as the most still silence.
I feel close to you here.
More close than in a house.
More close then in a forest or on a mountain.
At least as close as the most perfect church sermon.
I need no preacher here.
No Sunday School. No Greek.
Here you speak to me directly, Lord.
In the sun and the waves and the rocks and the wind,
And yes, even in the seagulls.
You are here and my heart listens.
I am the ship passing slowly, so slowly,
Floating on the huge expanse of your presence and your love,
Carrying (hopefully!) good things for others.
Would I have dared like Simon Peter
To step from the boat and walk on waves like this?
No, but I would like to dare.
Lord, help me so much to see you
That troubles are nothing to fear.