Trains, Water, and G.ood O.rderly D.irection

During my morning quiet time, I was briefly interrupted by the distant bellow and clack of the train in town. Returning to silent contemplation, I was reminded that every key place I’ve lived as an adult has featured both trains and water. It’s beautiful where God can lead us if we just sit with Him a spell in (interrupted) silence.

My first home was in historic Ellicott City—a hundred-year-old row house halfway up the hill to Oella, just yards from the Patapsco River and the trains that once served the quaint town and the mill.

After I married, I moved to the arts town of Berkeley Springs, West Virginia, living on four beautiful, park-like acres overlooking a pond and dotted with natural springs. The Western Maryland line was a few miles away, but the gentle hills carried the sound to my ridge and my ears.

And now I live in Safety Harbor, in a home I chose over a breakneck weekend in a town that wasn’t even on my carefully studied short list.

Water runs deep in my story. I was born in Southern California and spent so much time on water—or trains—with my Italian family in Italy.

As I sat reflecting, God impressed His intent on my heart: He is all about cleansing and moving me along to the destination He’s chosen.

Will I go with His flow, or will I insist on my own way?

We can hop on His train and go with His flow. (Good idea.)

Or we can go our own way. (Bad idea.)

Either way, we’ll still get there, but it may be harder and longer than it might have been.

I’ve taken plenty of those dastardly detours because I’m soooooooo smart, dontcha know. Costly, crushing, controversial. Not always “sin” in the glamorous sense, but striving in my own strength, performative faith that squeezes grace right out.

Here’s the Good News: God uses every smidgen of it for good — in us, for us, and through us — when we get back on board.

The enemy wants to keep us stuck in condemnation and shame. He wants us to lie down in despair and quit.

Our loving Father wants us to keep chugging, keep flowing, keep going.

To let our story become a witness to His love, His power, and His way of life.

I pray to ride God’s train, let His flowing water cleanse me, quench my thirst, and carry me wherever He wants me to go.

May I do His will always. Amen.

P.S. This is the whole basis of 12-Step recovery, and why it often works where a “cleaned-up” church doesn’t (when recovery is healthy and true).

P.P.S. These themes show up often in my short-story collection Waterworks. You can find it on Amazon.