"All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again." — Ecclesiastes 1:7
Our anger makes us susceptible to the undercurrent of sin. It's a curious and complicated thing, that which comes into what lies beneath the current of man, what scythes triumphantly
though breaking brooks, dost what is heavy and provides sturdy anchor, shaping the path of the stream. So it also is with our spirits, in the midst of our stay at the creek floor; we expect the current is shaped by how and where we lie, but when our spirits revel in cognizance, so often are we tousled even flow by precarious tides.
"Tides move the sea, winds stir the airy ocean, friction wears the rock: change and death rule everywhere. The sea is not a miser's storehouse for a wealth of waters, for as by one force the waters flow into it, by another they are lifted from it. Men are born but to die: everything is hurry, worry, and vexation of spirit."
We are never as so strong as when our souls are anchored as that rock. Though our spirits and the waves of the currents might dictate our motions for a time, but those moments are few. We can become vexed for days on the ill word of another man. We store past hurts in our consciousness like an arsenal, of which has no returnable value that to inflict harm, either on ourselves or upon others. We should carry no expectation that the stream will run dry, nay, the forces of the earth are far too commanding to relent to cease. However, in is paramount to our endurance of a people in his bulwark that we not just weigh on the bottom but rather become foundational pillars both above and beneath the surface. Foundations not of brick and mortar, but of the ethereal, that sustain the presence of of the Holy Spirit in manifestations that earthen things cannot provide.
We become absent foreman of this construction when our spirits are vexed, our hands may move and the hammer pounds away, but foundations become weak and pillars lean. Our hearts are too plagued by fears of submerging under the tides than apt construction of the pillars we need the most. We ruminate on and scrutinize the builder rather than follow the blueprint laid out buy the architect.
But be mindful, oh believer, that when the foundation is built, our stead in the current becomes more than self preservation, it requires our hands extended to those awash in the tides, that with hands extended and heart abandoned, we anchor our toes steadfast in the sand, so that those who know nothing but uncertain breaks may see the wonder of the carpenters hand. In the midst of trial, all things that come do return again, fear not the waves of the currents, but make your abode in his dwelling place.
