"We do not want to merely see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words--to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it...At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in. -C.S. Lewis "The Weight of Glory"
This is a picture of a spot on the Ben Burr trail, where a boulder has crashed down onto the trail from the hard winter. Today, I noticed the large amount of thawing taking place all around it. Winter passing and Spring coming. Forces at work, cycles, transformation right under your feet. The earth awakening, stirring and shedding its frozen chains. The power of life and nature, slowly but forcefully coming alive again. You can hear it being heralded by the incoming avian minstrels. You can catch a whiff of it if you are mindful, the scent of unfolding buds or just the flora shaking from its long cold and spreading its perfume...a prophetic promise of coming fragrances. It's all a hymnbook for those who have ears to hear and eyes to see. I find great pleasure in discovering these urban sanctuaries that soothe the mind and heart; they coax out the prayers and praise of the deep. The beauty of it all, stops me in my journey and lifts my face towards the warming sun; and gazing up into the crystal cold, sapphire sky; one is held perfectly in a moment of stillness and glory.
Yet, even in such wanderings of prayerfulness, one is surrounded by the marring work of blindness. Testimonies, left behind by those who cannot see, cannot hear...souls that can't drink in the glory but vomit up the dissonance from inside, in scaring displays of pointlessness. Unable to just walk gently...
...Here I pass more tokens of purposelessness, a pot smoking tool...left behind items of manufactured escape. Evidence of hearts and minds that have grown dull, calloused, numb and tasteless. They are unable to be stimulated by the natural high. They are dead to the endorphin producing rush of natures naked beauty...instead they turn to inhaling mind altering chemicals...thay have no clue, that they are getting ripped off.
All of these moments become icons for prayer, meditation, praise and mourning. If you cannot find God on the couch with the bible...take a walk and let God and the Bible find you.