[ Divine Signs ]
Morning At the River
The path to the river was damp and black, like a bog, really. I was in the midst of a gray winter landscape with mist rising from the river, that early morning in March. It seemed the only activity around was a squirrel furiously digging a hole at the base of a tree.
I sat on a fallen log near the edge of the river, enjoying my solitude and the sound of the water flowing downstream. I was hoping to pray, really pray, that early morning. I wanted feel to that wonderful sense of communion with God and I was trying hard to reach and make it happen. After a while I let go and began coasting, floating as if out of gear...
...Then I noticed it, a tiny yellow bloom on a tiny plant near my feet. Exquisite. I saw another and another. To my surprise tiny exquisite blooms were all around. I was only now seeing them. In my determination to meditate I had missed the beauty that was waiting. Waiting like tiny lights, more lovely than anything I could imagine, there for the quiet mind to rest on and to take in.
It seemed to me, that Sunday morning in March, that prayer is like that. When I try too hard, when I struggle to get God's attention, I get in the way. If I step back, just wait, I will get beauty and comfort and whatever I need. It's close at hand. If I don't see it, it is because I am too busy.
Sometimes we may feel as though our lives are in the middle of a gray winter landscape. Things might look bleak and cold. Yet, God is never far away. He is always near. Once again He told me so one morning at the river.