For 17.1 miles, the Fall River twists, turns, and splashes across Estes Park, Colorado. A ribbon of it backs up to the hotel we stayed at. Who could resist the river’s whispered invitation to walk along its bank and enjoy the wet wonderfulness? Not me! You’d find me out there every morning.
Given the intensity of a waterfall right at your feet, the soundscape is as glorious as the scenery. Which meant I felt obliged to trek back and forth five or six times every outing in an act of exercise as pleasant as you could imagine: three hundred feet there…three hundred feet back.
After a day or two, you begin to notice things about that river. Like the extreme range of sounds when you traverse its banks. Obviously, the waterfall is noisy. But the acoustics ebb and flow with differing dynamics. Where there’s a large boulder in the middle of the flow, the acoustics are dramatic. But where the river bottom is smooth, there’s little sound at all.
Apart from the rocks, the boulders, the drop-offs—in other words, the obstructions—there is no character. There is no sound. There is no song.
The same could be said of our Christian lives. Like me, you’d probably prefer life without the drama. Given the choice, most of us would opt for a rock-free, obstruction-free existence. And certainly, we’d say no thanks to the wildness of any waterfalls.
But those are the very things that bear testimony to our character and infuse beauty in our witness for Christ. We don’t like them, but we need boulders and rocks—and sometimes, even falls—to give us a song of praise.
Lord, teach us to welcome the obstructions. Without them, our testimony is small and silent.
And not only this, but we also celebrate in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope. -Romans 5:3,4
