The Wedding of the Rivers

I've been up since 3:35 this morning thinking about work...logistics and timelines… and why some processes work well… and others don't... Yet, heavy on my mind and heart are the people who are in the mobilization process.  I identify with their eagerness, struggles, and concerns to get from point A to point B.  While wrestling these thoughts with how can I make it better or what can I do to control things, God reminded me of the “wedding of the rivers”.



The "wedding of the rivers" in Fairbanks, Alaska

In the summer of 2010, at the end of a mission trip to Fairbanks, Alaska, our team took a paddleboat ride down the Chena River, which is a clear, spring-fed river flowing from the White Mountains.  The Chena River meets the Tanana River, which is a glacial river carrying silt and sediment from the Alaskan Range. At the confluence of these two rivers is an amazing natural phenomenon of being able to see exactly where the rivers meet.  I mean, literally, see it! The paddleboat company calls this the “wedding of the rivers” where the Chena and Tanana join together at this point and eventually flow into the Yukon River.

So, I thought about this phenomenon and looked up the word confluence because I knew that was the reason there was a wedding, so to speak.  According to my research with online dictionaries, confluence has Latin roots and basically means “together flow”.  (Please note this is a greatly abbreviated Latin etymology for the word confluence.) 

What am I trying to say?  I believe God is showing me the confluence of mobilizing people to help me explain it those I am working with, co-workers and applicants. I work in the mobilization department which is the point where the two rivers meet, the confluence.  One river is the mission field, the other is the applicant.  Seeing where the rivers meet or “marry”, as in my example, is part of my job.  How the rivers blend is God’s job.  I can see the rivers are coming together, but I cannot control how all the details will settle and eventually flow together to form the ministry that will happen. 

There are so many factors and people in play when it comes to ministry.  Therefore, I am so thankful He has shown me a way to help explain it.  I know God knows that I am doing my best to be diligent in serving Him.  Finding peace is vital for me to persevere in my job and I believe that is why He reminded me of the Alaskan rivers.  My greatest challenge as a mobilizer and applicant coordinator is managing expectations for everyone involved while maintaining the sense of urgency tempered with God’s sovereignty.

“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps” Proverbs 16:9 NIV

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lords’ purpose that prevails” Proverbs 19:21 NIV

Be Thou My Vision

This stained glass window is not the same one as mentioned in
in the blog post, only a representation.  I took this photo at
Seoul Theological Seminary, Bucheon South Korea

When I was about 8 years old, my mom was the church custodian and sometimes, I would go with her on Saturdays to help her clean.  She often referred to the little country church as The House of God.  Polishing the gold-plated candlesticks and dusting wooden pews was a wonderful task for me.  For mom, it kept me busy, but it allowed me to stay in the sanctuary.  When I was done or sometimes while I was dusting, I would sit in the silence and marvel at the stained-glass windows lining the walls.  I loved to be there, in God’s House.  It was quiet.  It was holy.  As an 8 year old, I thought it holy.  Not the building but the space.  Looking back as I write this, I know it was holy because He was there and I believed He was there.  Even though I could not explain it, as a kid, I naturally sensed His presence and being in awe of it.  The same reverence I sensed in the sanctuary, I could sense in the countryside.  Growing up on a farm, I could see God’s handiwork in the stars, in the fields, in the flowers.  In the wind, I could feel His holiness and I could hear it as it blew through the leaves in the trees.  As I grew up and as life got tough, the awe and reverence slowly faded away.  Or… did I fade away?  It was me.  God does not change.  He was. He is. He is to come.  I know it sounds silly, but the awe I had as an eight year old seems to be coming back, and that has revived joy unspeakable in my heart.

The Bible says in Luke 18:17 “Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”  This verse always puzzled me.  Does it mean to accept things without question?  Does it mean to be innocent?  I am not sure what theologians would say, but without even thinking about it, I knew what “the kingdom of God” meant as a child sitting in the sanctuary. I just knew.  Through thinking and praying about recent events, coupled with an amazing Bible class I am taking, finally, I “get it”.  It is like my brain has stayed in the present, but my heart made a quantum leap back in time.  It’s the game changer for me.  It’s not like I am suddenly living in a fairy tale land now and everything is hunky-dory.  No, sadly, I still see the world in all its mess and madness, but I have a vision of what it should be and the understanding of why it isn’t.

All of what I have written here reminds me of one of my favorite hymns:  Be Thou My Vision

“Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.

Thou my best thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light”

grace and peace,

Beth