Countercurrent

An Aimless Pursuit
I am swiming upstream, fighting the pressure, fighting the waters with every bit of strength in my body.

I am alive, so I must fight; fight to go upstream. Many are further ahead than me, many are further away.

I can feel myself struggling. I can feel myself wrestling. All in all, I can feel myself surviving; I must be alive.

As I fight to go upstream, I see others going downstream. Their path seems so much easier than mine!

For a moment, I stop to look at those who do not seem to struggle. I stop to look at those who do not try to fight.

I stop
To envy them.

So, I decided to let go of the fight; thinking that going downstream was better than this seemingly pointless battle of living to simply go upstream.

I feel myself becoming one with this River: I go where she goes. Tickled by the silky strands of this transluscent substance, I slowly feel myself becoming numb, becoming lifeless.

No more do I have Something to fight for! Pretending to be lifeless, I have allowed for this body of water to become my guide. Without a fuss, I go where she goes, turn where she turns, sometimes intercepted by a rock or other lifeless bodies as I follow her lead.

I am now FREE! Free from the fight! Free to go wherever I please. "No more struggles from this moment on", I tell myself. This is how it was meant to be.

As I let the River guide me, I eventually become estranged to time "How long have I been in this bliss void of tension? Am I living? Really?"

Up and down the stream I fall. Without a protest, I go where She goes, the River. And it dawns on me, "is this what living is?"

As the River led me down the stream, lower and closer to where I had begun, I got stuck in a bed of moss covered rocks.

From the abrupt collision, I felt the glaze over my eyes crack as was suddenly awaken from a daze. For the first time since I gave myself over to her, I noticed the beauty of nature around me. I saw the sky, the trees, the plants, the wild animals on the solid earth, living as one. I notice those fishes that were falling downstream and those that were wrestling to go upstream.

As I rested on this bedrock, far in the distance, I heard what sounded like groans and growlings; some sounded deeper and others higher in tonality. I felt strength slowly taking hold of my being again
as I started taking use of my senses again.

Surprised at how distrofied my body had become, I was painfully starting to take notice of my limbs again. But although unexpectedly my strength had come back I dreaded swiming upstream again. I could still see other peaceful bodies passing by and envied them still. Although I was strong again, I used this reacquired energy to push myself away from the rock back into the familiar current of the River. I was comforted by this familiar feeling of feeling myself sinking back under the her sweet caressing waves. But this time around, something was different. I could not help paying attention to the scenery around me. The grownings becoming increasingly louder and more distinct.

My heartbeat was rising as the sounds of splashes of water getting closer and closer. To my confusion, this comotion did not seem to bother my fellow drifters who continued to calmly follow the lead of the stream. Choosing to trust the wisdom of the majority as better than the voice in my own mind, I concluded that this fear of mine was misplaced. So I kept on mimiquing the flow of those peaceful drifters, going where the River goes. Sometimes, however, my numbed mind was distracted by other fishes who were swimming upstream or who seemed to have suddenly waken up from their daze to fighting the River's current. Convinced that the drifters new better, I chose to pretend that I was with the majority. Clearly, I was with those who were making the best of life; those who knew better than to struggle.

But now, the groanings were becoming the distinct cries of a bear and her cubs. The splashing noises had become too close to be ignored. I could not continue ignoring what everyone else was not paying attention to.

All of a sudden, I felt a claw scratch my tail and, alarmed at the reality of death being near, I started taking use of those muscles that had mysteriously started to strengthen a while back and began to fight to go upstream again.

Going Upstream
This time, not looking back, I swam for dear life! Although I was not completely sure what was laying ahead, knowing where the River led was enough to convince me that swimming against her current was wiser than being a drifter.

I had chosen to live! While I was now gladly swimming upstream, I kept on picturing what could have happened if my muscles were still distrofied; if I had abandoned myself completely to the River's lead.

As I was now fiercely swimming upstream, I sometimes purposefully altered my path in order to bump into a drifter who may have not been unaware of the dangers that were laying ahead.

Often I was completely ignored. But I could not help but continue to try to warn others of the value of swimming upstream.

Regardless of the rejection from the majority, regardless of being part of the minority going upstream, at least I knew the reason why I was choosing to swim against the River.

There came a part in my journey that became seriously steep. I was surprised to see that we were many there trying fight to go up this particularly strong body of water. Although I had been struggling until now, I felt myself struggling for real this time. As I was battling to continue upwards, I witnessed many fellow swimmers fall back into the numbing arms of the River.

Stubbornly refusing to go back under the rule of the River's deceptive streams, I kept on trying to go over this strong stream. It seemed that this practice of fighting made me feel weaker and weaker although I somehow still found the energy to keep on trying to go to the top of this River.

My battle against the River was a difficult one! I would go higher in the stream and fall back lower and lower and then swim higher than before... to fall lower again. When I felt myself getting discouraged, I remembered where my life could have ended and I remembered the stories I heard about the top of this River earlier in my path. For a reason hard to explain, those were the memories that gave me the energy I need to continue upstream.

Until that faithful day where I suddenly mysteriously reached the top!

At the Top
What a beautiful sight I am now in! The water is as clear as cristal and food is easy to reach. The stream of this lake is so gentle, it is barely noticed. No more struggle in this beautiful scenery; only peace to be found. We are many here to enjoy true rest. In this wide lake that feels infinite, there seems to be always more to explore and enjoy.

But one day, as I was wandering this peaceful water with my new found friends, I asked one of them why so many drifters would ignore me as I tried to warn them of the dangers that lied at the bottom of the River. And of them to answer:

"Friend, only those that are alive can swim upstream."


Reference: Ephesians 2:1-10

End7

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Be entirely His.

"I have manifested your name to the people whom you gave me out of the world. Yours they were, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word."

John 17:6

The missionary is one in whom the Holy Ghost has wrought this realization - "Ye are not your own." [...] 
Our Lord makes a disciple His own possession, He becomes responsible for him. "Ye shall be witnesses unto Me." The spirit that comes in is not that of doing anything for Jesus, but of being a perfect delight to Him. The secret of the missionary is - I am His, and He is carrying out His enterprises through me.

- Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest_Sept 4