Clinging Cross: Staying Present to the Voice of God

Growing up, the Eastern branch of the Huron River ran through our property. Crawdads skittered under rocks and water flowed cold, even in August. It was a creek really, but it was our creek. As our U-shaped stone ranch was being built on the hill, the contractor had disposed of four-foot square cement blocks into the creek. Perhaps he was trying to dam it up; perhaps it was a romantic gesture that was then too heavy to correct. But those flat cement blocks laid over the stream were my favorite place. They made a makeshift waterfall, and it was my waterfall. And in the dark confusion of junior high, it became my favorite place to pray. Throughout my life, the roar of water would signal the voice of God.

***

When we turn our minivan just two and a half hours north of Atlanta, we can escape to the mountains. Towering Georgia pines and umbrella shaped Rhododendron shrubs greet us. That particular day, we were taking a late-February hike to Hemlock Falls.

Halfway through the hike my fingers wrapped around the cross in my right pocket—a clinging cross. It’s designed with grooves for fingers, perfect for a hand to hold. We are an embodied people, not disembodied spirits, and we are invited to pray that way. Our bodies—our senses—become doors to prayer.

Read the rest at The Joyful Life Magazine by clicking here.