Let the Floodwaters Rise

Often, my lovely wife and I walk down a nearby country road, a place cherished by us that gives us time together in the great outdoors. Usually, at the midpoint of our walk, we venture off down to the creek before we return home. Over time we have created a path there, which is a good thing when you want to gain easy access to the flowing waters without too much interference from briars or other obstacles. Last week, on a warmer-than-usual Groundhog Day, I ventured out alone, as Miss Katrina had other things to attend to. When I arrived at our usual midpoint, I had a mind for exploration, to get off the beaten path.

Off through the woods I went, on my own, under a mostly blue sky with patches of white clouds here and there. Having no real plan, other than to explore a bit while I had some extra time, I wandered through the underbrush, fighting briars as I went. Although the temperature was ideal for the shorts and short sleeves I was wearing, the environment was not. Ultimately, before my adventure was over, I not only came home with a couple of smooth rocks in my pocket, but a number of scratches on my arms and legs. It comes with the territory.

Happy to be taking in the nice weather, I happened upon a place we’d been before back in the warmer months of summer. There on the creek bank were the two large rocks that I had fetched from an endless supply of creek rocks to make two nice seats for me and my bride to sit on while we relaxed in the sun. As I imagined us sitting there, it brought back memories of splashing, wading and togetherness.

Yet I was alone on this adventure. Or was I?

In all of our wanderings to the creek at various times of the day, we have never seen a beaver where we walk. One exception was a time that we saw one under the highway bridge near our home, but never on our walks. But the evidence of beavers was on full display on my wilderness walk. They had been busy as could be, chopping down branches and small trees. In various places I could see several debarked limbs, cut to length and stripped of their outer layers, soaking in the water. I suppose a beaver could have been off in the distance or burrowed up in a hole, waiting for me to depart so it could return to its work and feasting on bark.

Although the beavers in the wild are doing what God created them to do, it can sometimes become a hassle for waterways that are used by many. Even though a beaver may be building a home on the creek and damming up the waterway to create a safe haven, they can also be creating problems for others downstream, such as farmers or ranchers that rely on a steady flow of water for their crops or animals.

While we generally think of beavers as being hard working and industrious, hence the term, “busy as a beaver,” perhaps at times, unbeknownst to them, they may actually be working hard on something that can cause a problem for others. They go about their day, unconcerned about anyone other than themselves, and perhaps the lodge they are building may become an obstacle to others, a log jam that creates havoc.

As I was observing all of this beaver evidence on my journey, it made me think, “Hmm, I wonder what I’m doing in my own life that is causing a problem for someone else?” This can be a problem in our personal lives, professional lives or even in the church. We put our heads down, do some sort of well-intentioned task that we think needed doing, and before long, we could actually be harming an organization instead of helping.

When it comes to the church, how does all of this busy-as-a-beaver mentality relate? Most people are doers, and when they find a good thing to do, they do it with all their might. It might actually be an amazing thing that needed doing for a time or a season, but as time goes on, maybe it is something that has just become busy work. Additionally, maybe that act of service that is being done by someone with a servant’s heart has become an act of drudgery instead, or maybe the person performing the service was not really called by God to do that thing in the first place.

We, as humans, are not a great deal different than beavers. Most of us want to be industrious and busy, ensuring that we are building what we sense is necessary. But at the end of the day, we need to be careful that we are not causing a log jam for someone else downstream. Perhaps beavers don’t have the sense to know that their hard work may be causing trouble. They swim up under their comfy lodge and happily eat their stockpile of bark and leaves, unconcerned about the rest of the world around them.

We are not beavers. God gave us the ability to care, to assess, to react to those around us, and to pivot in new directions. God longs for His church to love one another, to stop building dams of destruction that may be harming our brothers and sisters downstream that need the living water we are trying to hoard up for ourselves.

May we the church be on our faces before God, asking Him for the floodwaters to rise, that He may wash away our “dams” of comfort, traditions and busyness as we sit inside our “lodges” of comfort. As He cleanses and purges us, may we lean in and listen, answering His call to use our unique gifts and talents to serve Him with all our might, and for His glory!

If you love these stories, check out my book, Almost Home, Setting Our Sights Toward Heaven!