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Allison Auth describes her encounters with waterfalls, connecting the symbolism of water to abandoning yourself in self-gift.  


This summer my husband and I celebrated 14 years of marriage. Our anniversary landed during a trip to Idaho for a family reunion, so one night we left our kids with their aunts, uncles, and cousins to sneak out for dinner. Without a plan at first, we ended up having excellent conversation over margaritas at a Mexican restaurant and finished the night behind a waterfall on the Snake River Canyon at sunset. 

 

Hinds' Feet on High Places 

Waterfalls have been a part of my spirituality for years, ever since I first read Hinds' Feet on High Places in high school. My husband proposed to me at a waterfall, and at important times in my life the waterfall imagery would appear again, either in prayer or real life. Waterfalls are even how I discerned to be open to having our fifth child! 

 

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Hinds' Feet on High Places is an allegory of the spiritual life, with the main character Much-Afraid following the Shepherd up to the “high places,” all while growing and learning lessons along the way. Towards the end of the journey, they encounter a majestic and thunderous waterfall. When the Shepherd asks Much-Afraid what she thinks of the waters in their abandonment of self-giving, she replies they are beautiful and terrible. Terrible because of the leap the waters make over the edge, casting themselves down to be broken on the rocks below.  

Then she looks closer and notices,

The waters were like winged things, alive with joy, so utterly abandoned to the ecstasy of giving themselves that she could almost have supposed that she was looking at a host of angels floating down on rainbow wings, singing with rapture as they went. 

 

Next she decides,   

It looks as though they think it is the loveliest movement in all the world, as though to cast oneself down is to abandon oneself to ecstasy and joy indescribable.

 

And the water seems to laugh as it goes lower onto the next bunch of rocks, finding a way over or around each obstacle in self-giving. There is singing, shouting, and jubilation in the bubbling of the stream as it proceeds to make itself lower and lower still. 

The Shepherd tells her these are the Falls of Love.

At first sight perhaps the leap does look terrible ... but as you can see, the water itself finds no terror in it, no moment of hesitation or shrinking, only joy unspeakable, and full of glory, because it is the movement natural to it. Self-giving is its life. (emphasis added) 

 

I spend time quoting the book because of the beauty in the imagery. I don’t always find ecstasy in abandoning myself to my family as I make dinner or run errands or put the kids to bed. And for all the highs I have experienced in marriage, there have been almost as many lows. Yet as I consider the waters embracing the next obstacle in order to make itself lower and give more, I realize I have a lot to still learn and embrace.  

 

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A gift of self 

Famously it is written in Gaudium et Spes that man “cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself.” In the Sacrament of Marriage, that gift is to my spouse. The waterfalls I have encountered throughout my life remind me of my purpose to give myself away in order to truly be transformed into the woman God has called me to be. Paradoxically, it is often after difficult periods in marriage that we have found the most joy. After working through our wounds and issues, we have found a deeper reservoir of love for each other. 

I know I haven’t always exuded the joy of self-giving, especially as I battled years of anxiety. It is easy for a mother today to find herself spent with no more left to give. In those moments it feels like if I give one more drop, I will be all dried up. But the key is standing back under the waterfall of God’s grace to let Him fill me up again. And self-gift doesn’t mean you don’t take care of your needs, but it does mean you are always looking to serve.  

 

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As my husband and I were at the waterfall that night, you could feel the mist rising up after the water had crashed on the rocks below. There is a joy in casting oneself down in the abandonment of self-giving, to pouring yourself out in love for your family. But you must be willing to take the risk to dive off the edge, lower yourself, and embrace what comes next. Only then can you find the exhilaration of being truly alive and living in love.  

 

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Copyright 2024 Allison Auth
Images: Canva