Having spent the day in Chattanooga, taking in the sights of the river as we walked. We explored many small shops and such as we discussed the passage of so many years between us. Life has been good.
Upon returning home, I fired up the old gas grill and cooked some of the best steaks I’ve had the pleasure to cut into. The sky was growing dark as the day slipped into dusk, then night. Finishing up dinner, I mentioned how tonight would be a perfect night for a top-down cruise. With a whimsical gleam in her eyes, My wife agreed. Off to the garage to find the 107 waiting like an old friend, drink in hand, to share the events of late. With her top folded and stored neatly in back (after all, one must be prepared should the need to cover up occur), we set out on our clandestine cruise. The night air was cool and brisk, but we did not pay notice. We eased along the sleepy streets of Fort Payne, headed for the canyon roads of Little River Canyon. Hardly a car was encountered, so there was no need to cover up. No modesty needed as no one would pay notice to a lone convertible gliding along in the evening… As we slipped thru the night air, the breeze caressing our bodies and stinging bare skin I couldn’t help but recall the beauty that I first noticed those so many years had not faded with time. In fact, she had grown even more beautiful to me, a timeless, classic beauty that will never fade. The purring of the engine and the low volume of the becker set the mood as if we had transcended time; back to a time of innocence and youth. Back to a time that had slipped from us so many years and responsibilities ago. Resting my hand on the gearshift, I let it slip and brush her skin. I could almost feel the tremble of anticipation as we carved thru the night air. My palms broke with sweat as I recalled the first few moments we spent together, and my heart raced as I relived those stolen moments of youth. Returning back to home, I gently put her to bed. As I carefully covered her up, I patted her gently on her left flank in a playful manner more in keeping with a young man, rather than the older gent I find myself described as these these days. I closed my eyes and granted myself one last moment to allow the memories of the evening to paint their tapestry across my mind. As I sat on the edge of the bed to undress, My wife roused from a near slumber and said, “you were gone for quite a while… Did you have a nice ride?” Facing away from her in the dark, she could not see the smile growing across my face as I casually answered her… “Oh, it was alright…”

It was during the few years that I lived in central Texas, that I became acquainted with Big Bend National Park. There in the northern extents of the Chihuahuan Desert lie approximately 800,000 acres of some of the most rugged terrain inside the United States. From the high peaks of the Chisos Mountains and across the central basin, spectacular geologic landforms and various endemic plants stand in contrast to the desolate expanse of the surrounding desert floor. In spite of this harsh environment, artifacts provide evidence of the nearly 12,000 years of human occupation that cover cultures from Paleo-Indians up through the mid-1900’s when miners and ranchers last inhabited the area.

Central to the ability for life to exist in this desert area, the waters of the Rio Grande pour from the Santa Elena Canyon as it winds it way through the desert, ultimately spilling into the Gulf of Mexico. As the river emerges from the canyon, it carries with it sediment that has previously been heaped upon the earth through the eons of time, and refreshes the desert floodplain, nourishing life in the area. The nearly 1500 foot high walls of the canyon itself stand as remarkable testimony to the tireless and unwavering power of the river to wear away the seeming impenetrable rock.

There, in the quiet of the desert, the river carries away the detritus and nourishes the land, leaving behind a masterpiece of beauty. Standing amid the splendor of this natural area, I realize the parallel for our own lives. When we take the time to depart from the daily demands and pressures upon us, the unwavering love of our Savior washes over us, cleansing and nourishing our spirit. It is when the weight of the sediment is borne away, that we are truly at rest.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, grant us rest, that we may feel your nourishing spirit wash over us…

RM Smith
Feb 2010