This morning, there was a beautiful rainstorm outside the open windows. I lay in bed and listened. I love the sound of water – waves, streams, rain. I even love the soft hush of snow as it falls. Water demands nothing of us. It simply moves as it is intended to move, responding to the forces around it in the only ways it knows how to do – to sit, to run, to fall, to freeze, to evaporate. It doesn’t have a lot of choices – in fact, it doesn’t have any choice at all. There is power in this choiceless entity, though.

As my brother described it this weekend, the Rio Grande is sometimes only four or five feet wide, but it has carved great canyons of cliffs and rock along the southern edge of Texas. It is so strong that it is now the border between two countries. Simply by doing what it is made to do, this tiny stream of water has become mighty and strong.

Today, as I think about all the turmoil in my life, as I ponder the words I want to write but can’t find time or clarity to put on the page, as I spin in countless directions to “get things done,” I am reminded that I am given only one task – to be who I am and to love God completely. These small actions can sooth spirits and carve mountains. Maybe not all at once but one little droplet at a time.