This evening as the sun was setting I went to one of my favorite places -- Harris Riverfront Park in Huntington WV. There's a spot where I like to go to ponder the unsolvable problems of life. As I watched the wind roughen the surface of the water, I thought about how in my decades of life almost all my peaceful spots have been along the Ohio River. The entire river is a place that I identify with, whether it's at the Point in Pittsburgh or Cairo Point at the other end or dozens of places in between.
As I sat there thinking about how mentally peaceful this place is to me as compared to another place that is far less so, I heard people walking toward me. Behind me and to my left were nine people, mostly young, carrying pillows and what looked like blankets.
"How are you doing?" one asked as I glanced at them.
"It depends on what you're carrying," I replied.
They were from a church in or near Wayne WV, and they were looking for homeless people who might need pillows or blankets or a Bible. I said I thought the Huntington police had cleared out the homeless camp nearby, but you never know if the people who had lived there had returned.
So they left and kept walking down the river. As I stared at the water's surface again, one girl ran back and handed me a small wooden cross.
I couldn't help but think about what this one symbol means to different people I know. Some have dedicated their lives to what it stands for, while others detest everything it means.
Another thought came into my head, too. Rivers have their own symbolism in secular literature and in Christian theology. On the theological side, I thought about the phrase "rivers of living water" from John 7:37-38.
After that, it was time to leave. The river is still there. The cross is in my car. And I hope the people from Wayne had a productive evening.
