There is a stream that passes by the farm where I grew up. It was a favorite place to play and get wet and muddy. But there was more to it than just that. I learned to enjoy the stream from a couple that came there to fish. They sat in the shade, cast their lines in, and watched the water sparkle and ripple its way through a narrow, rocky place. I often spent a peaceful evening with them.
The source of water in a creek may be in a high place, but the water eventually makes its way through low valleys. I remember always wanting mountain top experiences while growing much of the time in the valleys of my life. It seems that, just as water can only flow through low meandering valleys, God's teaching and my learning has taken place in my valleys of hardship and pain. There is where my faith has grown. Those who experience illness can best be a blessing to those who are ill and those who have had loss can best bless those who are experiencing loss. Knowing my own need of care seems to have made me more caring.
"...though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed" (1 Peter 1:6b-7).
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