The Forks of the Credit are swollen with the force of spring. Heaven’s thoughts, hurled down in the rain and snow, are now converging to water the earth. The waves are high, higher than the banks, higher than our thoughts can hold them. We are frightened by their icy strength, until we can hear the undercurrents of joy. The northwest wind breaks over the mountains and hills, waking up the trees of the field. Their bony applause welcomes the wind and the rising waters. Clap your hands, put on your rubbers, you cannot hold back the impetuous vernal flood.
God . . . has infinite treasure to bestow, and we take up with a little sensible devotion, which passes in a moment. Blind as we are, we hinder God and stop the current of His graces. But when He finds a soul penetrated with a lively faith, He pours into it His graces and favors plentifully; there they flow like a torrent which, after being forcibly stopped against its ordinary course, when it has found a passage, spreads itself with impetuosity and abundance.
(Brother Lawrence - The Practice of the Presence of God)