when the waters swell...

We just bought a farm (which will lead to a lot of posts in the future, I'm sure...), and there's a little creek that runs through it. Actually, it's a couple of creeks that come together. Normally it's shallow, with water trickling over the rocks and moving gently down the creekbed. At one point, it ducks underground and flows there for a while before it comes back out of the rock right at the gate to our driveway.

Lately, though, our beautiful little corner of the world has been pretty soggy. We got close to a foot of rain in just a few days. Water has been everywhere—the rivers have swollen out of their beds, filling fields and sweeping over bridges. We had water running through our yard, pouring down the hill, and overflowing our ponds. There were waterfalls falling where water hadn't even been flowing, rolling over rocks and around trees.

We cross 5 different low water bridges before we reach our driveway, most of which aren't really bridges at all. Instead, they are simply shallow places where you drive across he stone-slab creekbed. With all the rain lately, though, those bridges haven't been peaceful places. The water has poured through, rising above the banks, pushing logs and brush and debris. It has flipped vehicles, stranded people on high ground, and moved giant rocks. When water starts rolling, it doesn't care where it is “supposed” to stay or what it is “supposed” to do. I've been reminded time and again of the awesome power water has, both in good and bad ways.

Amos 5:24 says, “Here's what I want:Let justice thunder down like a waterfall; let righteousness flow like a mightly river that never runs dry.”

The thunder of a waterfall can drown out everything else around--

What would it be like for the thunder of justice to be so loud that you could hear nothing else?

And when a river is flowing, it covers everything in its path and can't be stopped--

What would it be like to see God's righteousness roll over everything, not stopping for anything in its path?

There's something else that's interesting about water; it doesn't have to be in the form of a flood in order to change things. A small, slow trickle can bore its way through a boulder or cut a new path. Right now, we might not have the thunder of justice or the river of righteousness drowning out all the noise of this world. Each one of us, though, can be the little stream, slowly cutting a path.