In the stillness...

Ever since I was young, I felt that God probably liked the country best.  I guess I still do.  As a child at Cedar Hill Bible Camp near Dallas and as a teen camper and staffer at Sandy Creek Bible Camp near Washington-on-the-Brazos, I would take long walks down the dirt road bordered by country brush and Texas trees reaching to sky.  There in the quietness, I would talk to God…and He would talk to me.

I know He lives in the city too because that’s where I spend most of my time.  Sometimes we talk while I’m driving, often when I’m in the kitchen, but mostly when I’m out watering the plants.  We’ve had lots to talk about lately.  But sometimes I just need to listen to that still small voice.

Anyone who has known me for more than ten minutes knows that silence doesn’t usually last too long in my presence.  But there’s something about the country that stretches that time out just a bit.  Not always when there’s a group, but when it’s just the two of us, quiet is ok.  You can sense God’s voice whispering through the trees.  You can hear Him in the howl of the coyote, the gentle moo of the cattle, the wail of the screech owl.  You see Him in the intricate spider webs.  You know He has a plan for each when the tiniest ants are devouring a bug a thousand times their size.  This journey is part of His plan too.  I just need to listen.

 

Psalm 19:1-4  “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.   They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. 
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. 
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.”

So this weekend found us making the drive back up to Oletha for some much-needed time away.  Our days have been taken up with research, trying to understand the details of what I have and what treatments seem the most promising.  We have read blogs and national cancer sites.  We have googled and sorted, saved and discarded. 

At the country, there is no internet connection.  There’s barely a phone connection.  If you stand right here and look this way….  The most stressful aspect of the whole weekend was trying to get the water trailer out of the barn after it got backed in caddywhompus.  But we got it.  Time was spent watching the night sky and enjoying the first touch of fall.  We hiked and four-wheeled around the property marking the trees that were lost in this year’s drought.  Once winter sets in, it can be difficult to differentiate between dormant and dead.  The hot pink designation will guide us as we add to our wood supply for future projects. 

We fished a little.  I napped a little.  But mostly we scoured the creek beds and around the tanks for petrified wood.  We already have a number of larger pieces.  This hunt was for smaller ones that could add a natural element to flower arrangements and the like.  As it seems to be with married folks, we find ourselves reading each other’s minds more and more often.  One will say something and the other will get that look and say that they were just thinking the same thing!  This time we both got the idea of using our smallest finds for making a unique serving tray.  In fact, we may make many of our Christmas gifts this year.  From the one hundred year old oak to the million year old petrified wood, we have a lot to work with.  And I’m pretty sure we’ll be home with plenty of down time….

Amidst the gathering, the walking, the fishing, the talking was the ever-present sense of calm.  The silence that isn’t silent.  We were there together.  And God was there with us. 

Today, the business and the busyness of tests and waiting for results continue.  We get back to work.  We book mark more articles.  We wonder what’s next.   But in our hearts is the quiet stillness of walking with God on a path we did not expect.  But it’s ok…He did.