In a Redwood grove, the earth whispers. Even when the wind does not appear to blow, there is an invisible movement stirring across the bows. The only time it is silent is in the early morning and late evening as the fog wraps his arms gently and completely around each tree. It is then that everything is quiet.
It has only been a week since I left the city, so the memories are not completely lost. Each day seems like a week, and the memory is one that is not completely pleasant to recall. You wake to the hustle and buzz of the morning commuters. The hum of the city never seems to leave you. The underlying energy excites and then over time drains your energy. I know the city is quiet at night, but the lights are always there, the rumble of the late night bus always possible. This never happens in the Redwoods.
In the darkness last night, I walked in stillness accompanied only by the moonlight. You could see the edge of the coastal fog creeping over the hills while the moonlight danced through my shadow. The contrast is complete.
In the city as well as the woods, “the more talk, the less truth; the wise measure their words.” (Proverbs 10.19) It is almost as if once I quit talking, God is able to get through. If I still my heart and mind, as well as my mouth, then all sorts of things happen! The winds carry a song of God’s love and mercy. The dancing shadows remind me of the Spirit’s presence. The stillness gives me a sense of God’s longing for you and I.
I would be the last one to suggest that one can only hear God’s voice in the Redwoods. There are too many exceptions in my own life in some incredibly noisy and busy places. God is able to talk to each of us right were we are. The only exception comes when we choose not to listen.
Today, the whispers carry a great song; God loves you.