I have had this phrase stuck in my head for about a year. Psalm 23 is supposed to be a favorite for those who grieve. The Lord being our shepherd, lovingly guiding us through the valley of the shadow of death, is supposed to be a comfort to us. We all want to dwell in the place of "still waters", where there is comfort and rest. We want to revel in the pleasures of no worries, no cares, no grief, nothingness.
Often I have stared at the waters of the creek by my house when they appear to be still and found them to be anything but. Underneath the surface so much more is going on. Tadpoles are darting around. Fish are gently swim. Turtles and loons are hidden from view until a head suddenly emerges. Water plants have their roots in the murky bottom. The surface does not show all that is happening.
People want to look at the surface and they want it to be pleasing. They want to see that a grieving person looks "okay", but deep down there is so much more. It's messy and beautiful all at the same moment. Still waters are the place to be because they are not still.
The water above is a pleasing shade of blue. That was not the color at all on the day I took the picture. The water was gray; the day was bitter cold; and the wind was biting. The picture is that color because of the filter I put on it. Do we view grieving people the way we want them to be or the way they truly are?
We who are grieving get impatient with the process as well. We want our lives to return to what it was. We want the blue. Below the surface the Mover of all things is doing more than we see or feel.
My children and I were hurting terribly the day I wrote this. Yet, still waters are not still. God is creating a work in us, moving us back and forth from the gray to the blue. This poem talks about these cycles in the waves of grief.
For the grammar geeks, I am playing with the article adjective in the poem. I never knew for years that "the" was an adjective. It names the noun follows it and describes it. In the last stanza, by changing one letter, I moved a word from being an adjective to a pronoun. I additionally enjoyed creating the abcbd rhyme scheme.
The mists
The gray
The wandering
The haze
Still waters are not still.
The tears
The ache
The pain
The break
Still waters are not still.
The silence
The unknown
The questions
The groans
Still waters are not still.
The Mover
The growth
The healing
The hope
Still waters are not still.
The abiding
The peace
The journey
The release
Still waters are not still.
The valley
The embrace
Thy mercy
Thy grace
For still waters are not still.