I haven’t posted in several months, and, for 2019, I made a commitment to be more disciplined in my writing and publish one post each week. Here’s the first one for the year.
The early morning sunlight illuminated the lower trunks of the trees, leaving the upper branches still shrouded in twilight’s gray. The forest floor was silently alive as the gentle breeze made dust motes and bits of detritus dance in the air, winking like fireflies as the sunrays played on their faces. Plants on the forest floor twinkled with diamonds of dew as the last remnants of fog dissipated into the bluing sky. Drops of water slowly slid down green stems only to encase tiny insects on their way toward the ground.
The quiet was a presence and the serenity was complete.
Sarah’s tennis shoes were wet as were the bottoms of her jeans. No matter. She’d find a place out in the open in the sun when it was a little higher in the sky and sit and wait while they dried. She loved this alone time. She loved the scent of the damp earth, and the way the trees slowly became visible as the sky turned from black to midnight blue then burst into pinks and yellows and reds as the sun crested the horizon only to transform once more to a smiling bright blue with wispy white clouds.
The forest seemed to wake from a deep sleep, and she loved being part of its waking.
Her Native American ancestry and the memories and strength they harbored spoke to her as she walked. Their life forces remained in the earth and the fog and all the growing things. She loved the earth as they did, appreciating its beauty and energy.
This was her time of meditation, where God whispered in her ear, opening her eyes to his creation, grounding her in truth and preparing her for the days ahead.
Often, God doesn’t tell his children the ‘why’ behind things that happen. The heartaches, the disappointments, the tragedies. He does, though, bring us peace in the knowledge that he loves his creation and his children and always has the bigger picture in mind.
The forest, full of life and growth, also embraces death and decay. They work together, death making it possible for more life. The forest floor, covered with dying leaves and broken branches, dead flowers and the occasional dead animal, exudes a reverence that cannot but help bring pause to any heart that enters it with sincerity of purpose, for within the microcosm of the forest, important lessons for life and eternity are given every day when you’re willing to hear them.
“Come away and rest.” Let God whisper to you today.
