Then I Try, With Surprising Success, To Drink Of The
Water Like Our Arab Guide Drank To-Day.
Then we walk to the
bridge, at the approach of which I ask my men to tarry while I go
out on it alone to meditate.
I have reached this place by the expenditure of much physical
energy. I am very weary over my hard day in the saddle. But when I
seat myself on the highest point of the bridge, and give myself up
to reverie, I feel the flood of sentiment and rejoice. The moon is
about one-half hour above the mountains of Gilead; a halo seems to
gild the heights to the east and to the west. I am just above the
Jordan; its rippling waters tell me of Abraham, of Jacob, of
Joshua, of Saul, of David, of Elijah, of Elisha, of Naaman, of
John the Baptist, and of Jesus of Nazareth. How sweet and musical
is the story! How impressive its truths as I hear it to-night?
Then I watch the play of the moon-light on the water, - the
glittering sheen on the smooth surface above the bridge, and the
flashes of light on the rapids below. It is all so beautiful!
And this is the Jordan! For many years I have heard of it; I have
read of it; I have sung of it. It has been to me for many years a
type of death. Again I look upon the calm blue depths on the
north, and then again on the rapids below - I see the peace here,
and hear the rush there. Then I turn my eyes again to the
mountains, and upward to the moon, and past the moon to the stars
- and by faith beyond the stars to search for Him of this land,
because of whose earth-life I am here, and upon whom I rely for
support in the hour of my approach to the shore of that river of
which this is the type.
End of My Three Days In Gilead, by Elmer U. Hoenshel
Enter page number
Previous
Page 29 of 29
Words from 14626 to 14974
of 14974
