The Lowest Place

I am rushing, rushing, lower, lower still,

Until I reach the lowest place, where You will hold me still. 

 

I am rushing, rushing, to the lowest place, 

Until I reach the slowing and the pooling of Your will. 

 

I am rushing, rushing, lower, lower still, 

Until You gather all my waters in Your peaceful pool. 

 

I am rushing, rushing, lower, lower still, 

The lowest place is calling me, your babbling, thankful fool.

 

I am rushing, rushing, lower, lower still,

Until every expectation surrenders to Your best. 

 

I am rushing, rushing, take me to the depths, 

Those heights behind me long forgotten, I desire Your rest.

 

I am rushing, rushing, over boulders great,

Around the channels of the earth I’m bound to reach Your grace.

 

I am rushing, rushing, singing as I go,

The things I left behind, of them there is no trace.

 

I am rushing, rushing, tumbling down the mountain,

Headed for that glorious, serene, and humble fountain.

 

I, Your rushing creek, down and down I flow,

One Way only, only one Way, do I wish to go.

 

Plans and expectations now sediment and sand,

By power of the water set on reaching lower land.

 

Nothing else concerns me except the lowest place,

Rushing, rushing ever downward till I see Your face.

 

In the valley I will be Your pool of peace and grace,

And maybe those who search will find in me a resting place.

 

by Audrey Frank

 

Lord, this contemplative in action asks that any rushing I do would be like the rushing waters of my beloved creek, seeking the lowest place, where You gather me and others in stillness and pools of peace. Amen.

@audreycfrank

Photo by Jeremy Kuehn on Unsplash