I stood on the edge of a tidal creek that was fed by the Bay of Rest. In this section of Western Australia anyone is a long way from somewhere. Even by Texas standards, this is a place without limits. The sky is unending. The quietness is overwhelming. With the fish jumping in the creek, is it as if nature knows that it is its turn to talk.
It is easy to imagine what it would be like with nobody here. Life goes on with very few people to start with. Nobody is a stranger, even if you have never met. Shut you eyes and there is nothing that prevents you from hearing and feeling what nature is saying to you. In this setting I can hear an old man repeating wisdom stories. It is as if the openly line is an invitation into something more. “They say—again, quite rightly—that there is only one God the Father, that everything comes from him, and that he wants us to live for him.” (1 Corinthians 8.5)
If I find it hard to hear God’s voice here, when will it get any easier? I have yet to hear the radio going in a SUV near someone fishing. It seems as though the ungodly as well as those that claim to follow know with equal certainty that it is time to listen.
I hear the call to simplicity.
Life’s priorities do not need to be confusing in the middle of the chaos we often find ourselves in. We can know what is important.
Life’s choices are more than we see. We can make a difference even when it seems that we cannot. We can reach for more while doing with less. We can touch each other in ways that help not hinder.
Life’s invitation is to participate. We can let the wind touch us. We can step out into the unknown and act. Our choice is about how we participate. While we step forward, the decision is not the destination.
We have everything to live for, nothing less.
