In all toil there is profit.
But often and often in toiling I long for mere talk, and feel wealthiest where toil and talk mingle.
The library closed at five. I emerged into cold sunshine and decided to reward my afternoon’s diligence with a brisk walk around campus before driving home. There is an odd, detached feeling about an empty campus. A solitary grad student trotting about with a backpack cannot fill it. I walked faster as I went back toward my car. It might have been the emptiness; more likely it was the cold.
In class yesterday, a professor asked if the Bible talks about rivers in heaven anywhere. He did not stay on the subject long enough for me to share some of my favorite passages, which came to mind again when I stood beside a fountain on the empty campus.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
God will help her when morning dawns.
Psalm 46:4, 5
Behold Zion, the city of our appointed feasts!
Your eyes will see Jerusalem, an immoveable tent,
whose stakes will never be plucked up,
nor will any of its cords be broken.
But there the Lord in majesty will be for us
a place of broad river and streams,
where no galley with oars can go,
nor majestic ship can pass.
Isaiah 33:20, 21
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb …
Here is rest.