My southern Vermont town was still asleep early Sunday morning, but I heard a roaring noise in the background. I stood on the porch for a minute before I remembered how the melting snow is feeding the rock-bedded rivers with thousands of gallons of fresh water.

The water is in a rush.

Where exactly each drop comes from is unknown.

It’s destination is unknown, too. But it has one.

The water has a path.

The way is rocky, but it always gets by.

The water doesn’t worry about how to get downstream.

The water doesn’t know if it will go lift a boat or feed a pasture.

But all of it has a purpose.

As I rush and twist and turn and wonder about the next bend in my path, I’m going to take a deep breath (or two), and remind myself that I, too, will get to where I must go.

Because that is how Creation works.

John Terauds, CPE Intern