There is a River

A fellow Alabamian the late great Hank Williams, sang,

“I went down to the river to watch the fish swim by

But I got to the river so lonesome I wanted to die, oh Lord

And then I jumped in the river, but the doggone river was dry.”

Hank understood being lonesome and the experience of heartbreak. I love the song and think of it each time I visit a river. Rivers are symbols of life and journeys, change and transformation, and renewal and emotional flow.

I went to the Tombigbee River in Demopolis, Alabama earlier this week. I find peace and solitude there. I started vising the river in 2000 when I became the pastor of the Gallion Baptist Church near Demopolis. It became a place to escape the vigorous demands of being a pastor and a place to spend time alone with God and pray as in Alison Krauss’ song Down to the River to Pray:

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way!

Sitting under a Crete myrtle tree spending time listening to God watching the river flow reminds me of God’s faithfulness. This last visit is one of many that I have visited since moving two hours northeast of Demopolis eight years ago. I continue to journey to Demopolis to visit my chiropractor, ophthalmologist, dentist, and medical doctor and of course the Tombigbee. It is a time of wonderful reflection especially after seeing my medical friends and receiving a good report.

Most of my visits to the Tombigbee are in the morning. Mornings on the river are special as the fog begins to dissipate with the rising sun. It’s symbolic of the clearing of my mind and the ability to see things from a different perspective.

Lights on the river at night are beautiful. Watching a coal loaded barge headed to the Gulf and to possibly China is intriguing. Watching the Demopolis Christmas parade on the water on a cold December night is beautiful. The spender of a midnight ride to the river on a motorcycle and sitting alone is transformational and the emotional renewal is formidable.

Times such as these remind me of gospel songs of the river. One is Robert Lowery’s Shall We 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 God?

As I enjoy the flowing river I think of the longevity of the Tombigbee. It has been flowing for since the great deluge. Numerous peoples have witnessed its flowing. Many have traveled by canoe, riverboat, and tugs on the river. Scores have swum and played in its flow. It reminds us of the river of God that the Bill Gaither wrote There is a River:

There is a river, and it flows from deep within
There is a fountain, that frees the soul from sin
Come to this water, there is a vast supply
There is a river, that never shall run dry

Monday I gazed at the other shore of the Tombigbee from Demopolis and casted a wishful eye. There is nothing across except woods with the town of Livingston beyond. Samuel Stennett in 1787 penned On Jordan’s Stormy Banks I Stand:

On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan’s fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.
I am bound for the promised land,
I am bound for the promised land;
Oh, who will come and go with me?
I am bound for the promised land.

I am like the Hebrews in exile. They were longing to return to worship in Jerusalem. The river is a place to reflect on the greatness and faithfulness of God.

By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. Psalm 137:1 KJV