Atmospheric Rivers and All God’s Children
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells.
Psalm 46:4
An “Atmospheric River” is a real weather condition that occurs in the greater Seattle area. The first time I saw it on my weather app I giggled a bit, thinking “This can’t be true. It sounds like a Disneyland ride.” But it is true, it is real, and this week the Atmospheric River struck again. The official definition of an atmospheric river is this:
Atmospheric rivers are relatively long, narrow regions in the atmosphere – like rivers in the sky – that transport most of the water vapor outside of the tropics. . .When the atmospheric rivers make landfall, they often release this water vapor in the form of rain or snow.
According to an article I read, these sky rivers carry roughly the volume of the Mississippi River headwaters in vapor form. Sadly, this week’s atmospheric river has caused a good deal of flooding in our area, and I do not wish to trivialize that. But the concept of a river in the sky has been tugging at my imagination, asking me to wade into deeper water and wonder in what ways atmospheric rivers might point us to the Kingdom of God.
Weeks before the Atmospheric River came to town, Drew and I were driving east into the mountains for our anniversary weekend. “How is your life with God?” we asked one another as the miles slipped away behind us and the cares and concerns of daily life seemed to slide off our backs like heavy cloaks we didn’t know we were wearing. I will be honest: I do not remember how Drew answered the question, although I am sure it was wise and tender like almost everything he shares. I do remember what I said, because it cost me something to say it:
“I feel like there is a river of gold flowing just over my head, and that river represents the ongoing conversation among the Trinity. I have the sense that if I could just reach up my hand and touch it, all would be well. But I haven’t been able to reach that high lately, and having that river of gold flow around me and through me is what I want more than anything.”
I want to stand always in the atmospheric river of God, wading further up and further in. But the past few months have been spent visiting friends and family, traveling to writing workshops and retreats, and working on longform creative projects—all very good gifts that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I’ve seen so much of God’s kingdom shining in the faces of the people I’ve met and the places I’ve discovered. But I’ve missed this, the quiet space where God and I sit down and I write out the conversational choreography of our wrestle-dances and He reassures me that it’s not too weird and someone might get it and I say “okay” and press publish. I’ve missed being here.
Here is what I’ve learned about Heaven’s atmospheric river from this week’s downpour of a literal atmospheric river:
Sometimes we don’t have to reach very far to find ourselves deep in God’s River. Sometimes, the atmospheric river comes to us, drenching sinners and saints alike in the ever-flowing water streaming from the throne of God.
John got to see this River, and he wrote what he saw in the book of Revelation:
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city.
(Rev. 22:1)
I wish I could see what John saw—to have just a taste of that clear and pure water. When I described my dilemma of feeling drawn towards the river of heavenly things but being pulled deeper into the earth to my friend Sylvia, she reminded me that there are different ways of entering the River—different modes and means of walking in God’s presence. I suppose what I was describing to her is the pull between the contemplative and active life—a balancing act I have yet to master.
Here is what the path month of feeling my fingertips fall just shy of reaching the golden stream flowing over my head has taught me:
No matter how hard we try to reach for Heaven, Heaven will always reach for us first.
I know this to be true because the second that Jesus stepped into the Jordan River and allowed himself to be baptized by his locust-eating cousin, that river became the River flowing around and from the throne of God. God made his dwelling place with us, and that river’s name is Immanuel. “And we have beheld his glory,” says John in the opening lines of his gospel. We have, indeed, perhaps in more places and faces than we have ever realized. I think of the Spirit descending upon the heads of waiting women and men in Jerusalem in tongues of fire at Pentecost, and I realize that God has always been a God of descent. Hallelujah, for I cannot ascend the mountain of the Lord nor stand in His holy place. “Dead in the water—like lamb to the slaughter—if the Wind doesn’t sing her song. And I’m speaking in tongues, ‘cause I need a Holy Ghost,” cries John Mark McMillan in one of my favorite songs. I’m right there with him. These days, I sing that song with all my heart—loud enough for Heaven to hear and the neighbors to wonder. “I need a Holy Ghost…” Maybe they do, too.
In one of the final interactions I shared with my Papa before he was hospitalized, my family sang “Shall We Gather At the River?” with him at his request. It seemed strange to me at the time; he was not one given to gospel hymns spontaneously, and I wouldn’t have guessed this one to be in his spiritual reservoir. My family was gathered around an outdoor table in Montana because it was the only space save to meet during Covid, and Drew had brought his guitar. We sang hesitantly and haltingly through most of it because none of us knew the words—but we really shone at the chorus and sang it out boldly, as if we’d known it all along:“Yes, we’ll gather at the river!” This memory is made even more precious by what I know now: my Papa has reached the source of that River, and is experiencing Glory in ways I cannot even fathom. May this song serve as an anthem for those of us who have yet to gather at the River.
Shall we gather at the river?
Where bright angel feet have trod
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of GodYes, we'll gather at the river
The beautiful, the beautiful river
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of GodSoon we'll reach the shining river
Soon our pilgrimage will cease
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peaceYes, we'll gather at the river
The beautiful, the beautiful river
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God
Someday, I’ll meet you at that River—you, me, and all of God’s children—and we’ll sing with hearts made whole. Until then, we celebrate the descent of Living Water and find that all we need lies in the deep well of His side, pierced in the name of Love.
Amen.
Going deeper:
Listen to “River of Fire” by Andy Squyres. Here’s a sneak peek of the lyrics:
River of fire cut me through
River of fire make me true
Late have I loved you
Late have I tried
Late have I loved you but
Never mind the time
Holy Spirit, come again
And here is my favorite rendition of “Shall We Gather at the River,” sung by Pacific Gold: