Why do I love this place? Why is it that the site of the bloodiest exchange in one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War is the place where I find the most peace? Leslie even said to me, "Don't think for a second that it escaped my notice that your 'peaceful place' is smack dab in the middle of a war zone." I laughed but she had a point. I'd thought of that myself before. It hadn't escaped my notice either. So why does this place stir so strongly in my soul? Why do I feel such an overwhelming sense of God's presence and peace?
It's redeemed.
Well, it is inasmuch as a place can be redeemed. Men fought here and died here. Bodies littered the field, the hill and the bridge. The river and its banks were stained red with the blood of these men, these soldiers. Its history is horrific.
Yet I sit here, leaning against the very sycamore tree that stood here all those years ago. I am enjoying the cool shelter and shade it provides. The birds are singing so many different beautiful songs in the trees all around me. Swallows swoop in and out of their nests under the bridge. A fawn plays in the field next to me. The river rolls lazily by, no more concerned by the girl sitting quietly on its bank than by the three tour buses of military college students that descend all at once and leave as suddenly. Occasionally a fish plops in the water or a bird splashes on its surface. Still it continues; gently, quietly, steadily around the pilings and on downstream. There is the moist, earthy smell of the cool, muddy bank on which I sit blended with the scents of grasses, weeds, and stone. The bridge itself, though many years have passed, stands still. It has witnessed the passing of time, the years have left their marks, added the color of moss and worn the stone, but still it stands. As it is summer, the plants are lush, full, and green. Insects buzz and chirp. Birds soar and sing.
So while, yes, this is a place of death, it is also a place of life. God in His infinite grace allows creation to continue though man fought and died here. The world He has created continues to grow, flourish, and live much in the same way it always has, though there are scars and wounds there. And we, as humans, obsessed with identity, have given this place the definition, "battlefield: bloody, violent, broken, horrible." History has value, it absolutely does. I find great joy and treasure in learning our story as humans. But to me, the past it just part of it. The true legacy of this place is the life it has born witness to through the death and the future ahead.
Perhaps part of my love for this place is that I identify with it; that I can see in its waters my own reflection, a reflection of my soul. My heart and my soul have a history which is still being written to an extent. I am a battlefield as Satan and my flesh battle against the Lord and my redeemed soul. Like this bridge, I am a place of death and blood as I am redeemed by the death and blood of Christ and daily witness to the death of myself, the death of my selfish fleshly desires, and the death of my will to leave a place for God's. Yes, there is death, but there is life in me also. Again, God in His infinite grace daily preserves my life, as I have been reminded of quite a few times in the last week or so. He brings growth and regeneration to my heart and soul. With time, He brings spiritual maturity and wisdom. And I bear witness to it all and hopefully those who know me bear witness to God's glory and work in my life as well. And who knows? Perhaps God occasionally uses me as the channel to bring someone His perfect peace just as this bridge, though mortar and stone, not flesh and blood, has done for me.
There is such great peace in redemption. God placed it on my heart to read the book of Ruth today. I've read it before, I know the story, but every time I read it, it provides new insights in to the glory of God. Redemption is a theme that runs strongly throughout the entire book. It is in the context of a kinsman redeemer. In a time when widowed women had little to no way of providing for themselves and in a time when the producing of sons was crucial to the survival of the people, the family, and the women specifically (as it was the sons who provided for their widowed mothers), those widows were protected and provided for through the custom of kinsmen redeemers. The kinsman redeemer was a relative of the deceased husband, usually an unmarried brother, who would "redeem" or purchase the right to be married to the widow and provide for her as well as produce sons with her to take the name of her dead husband, preserving their line and name. Ruth's redemption came from Boaz and through their union the father of the line of David and ultimately Jesus was born. Jesus, the one who ultimately provided the redemption of the entirety of God's people. Jesus, THE Redeemer.
One verse that really struck me was the second half of Ruth 2:12. The whole verse says,
"The Lord repay your for what you have done, and a full reward be given you by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge!"
What an image! God the Redeemer who protects, provides and is the source of refuge. And how cool that this is the passage I was led to as I sat here contemplating my redemption and the redemption of this place of peace for me?
"He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul."
^ the view from my seat under the tree
^ Looking up through the leaves
^ Walking across the bridge
^ my little spot (taken by Leslie Combs)
(taken by Leslie Combs)
(taken by Leslie Combs)
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