Along the Way

I recently read somewhere that journal-style blogging is a thing of the past. Here I am, living squarely in yesteryear, rather enjoying every yellowed minute of it! Thanks for joining me in the dusty halls of bottom-rung-self-publishing. Apparently I am a dinosaur, swinging my way through the forest! (That's not the reason for the photo I've included above.) Before I move further through the jungle, I'll stop to add that I also read real paper and ink books, the kind you can hold, the kind that fall from your hand as you nod off to sleep. Yes, yes I do. I still make notes on paper, too. All of these practices are satisfying to me, however inefficient you may deem them. You don't have to understand.

Nature speaks to me. I recognize that I'm not the first creative type to nobly assert this. I get that every wannabe writer in the universe claims the sun, moon, stars, the veritable expanse of the universe is his or her muse. We all gush about the messages shouted by the waves, the tender song of the sparrow, the twisted path of the tornado. Why? Simple fact is that God himself is visible in creation. If we were always in it and never learning, never seeing Him, we would have to have closed our eyes and stopped our ears. Even then we'd feel the wind, the sun, the rain. We'd understand his power and we would somehow sense his genius. Even without the sight of the delicately-painted butterfly's wing, the red-streaked horizon at sunset, the myriad calls from a tree line filled with birds, we'd be conscious of him.

Today as I was out walking the short path behind our subdivision, I was praying. I was pleading with the Holy Spirit to help me. I saw a break in the trees where a creek trickles through. I don't know where it comes from or where it goes. Might have its genesis in a mighty river, or it could be runoff from our homes. The break in the trees is like a crack in the heavens where the Holy Spirit seeps through, coming into my heart and life and effecting change. I took the above photo a little further downstream. It was more picturesque. It looked like more of a substantial promise from Him to head into my life with some living water. To take my heart on another course, some direction I may never have thought of before. A friend recently told me that God will show me what to do and that it may be something that has never occurred to me before. I liked that idea with an intensity I can't put into words. I am perpetually bored and God is endlessly fascinating so it makes sense that to cure my emptiness I would seek and seek and seek and, when spent to the core, seek some more. All of the way to the finish line.