As I drive to work through the rolling countryside, I cross a bridge over a lake. Actually, it’s not a lake, at least not a natural one. Rather it’s a reservoir, formed by the damming of a river. But no matter. For me it’s a lake, and a very special place.

As I cross the bridge, my eyes are irresistably drawn to the lake’s tranquil waters. Amid the rushing flow of life’s busy-ness stands this oasis of peace. And I smile as I look, and am calmed myself.

Moments ago I was calling for the children to please get ready, and had they remembered their homework, and what about their lunches. And I was thinking about what the day would bring and all I needed to do: to not forget to call the mechanic about the car’s oil leak; to work on the next bulletin; to talk to so-and-so about this-and-that. A mind full of a mixture of the important and the trivial, and yet a mind that so easily forgets the need to step back and see the peace of God around me.

Bright in the blaze of a summer’s morning, or frozen white under a sheet of ice, or rippled by a caressing breeze -- the quiet waters draw me to lay down, lay down my burdens, to restore my soul. A call to look through the bright green leaves of spring that circle the waters, to see my God who always waits, who always has time for me. An invitation to worship through the myriad colours of autumn that shine so bright in the shimmering sunset.

Around me all the cars and trucks are rushing who knows where -- busy, frantically busy. But my lake calls me to a different perspective, a quiet moment in all life’s mania and noise. A moment to think, to reflect, to thank and to praise the God who is so different to the way we try to live. Time to come to the God who welcomes us into His peace that passes understanding, His peace that He gives, not as the world gives, His peace that no-one and nothing can take away from us.

Find your own lake, your place of peace and reminder. We all need an oasis of quiet to drink from, to take the time we know we need to talk to God as friend. A little piece of serenity.

© Jonathan Gallagher