The Clearing in the Woods
Years ago, my dad cleared a small patch in a wooded area native to my childhood acerage. To accomplished such a task, he pushed his lawnmower with determination, cutting through weeds, grass, and saplings. A rough cut path emerged. It went past the outhouse, beside the Saskatoon berry bushes, and towards the little clearing surrounded by towering aspen.
I loved that place. I remember sitting there as a child. I recall how many of my senses were stimulated. My eyes delighted in the wild flowers that carpeted the ground. My ears were calmed by the gentle sound of the summer breeze as it whispered through the leaves. My nose picked up the fragrant smells of blossoming berry bushes. For a moment, it was me and the elements. Me and my God.
I was like any typical kid back then. I had fears. I had worries. I went through phases when I felt that nobody understood me. I felt awkward and ugly at times. And I planned elaborate schemes to run away (of course, I never would carry it out because I loved my family too much!). So, how would I deal with all my childhood troubles? I'd run out to my little patch in the woods. And I'd sit there. And think. And vent. And cry. And smile. And rest.
I miss that place.
A couple of my friends have prayer rooms. These sisters in the faith have carved out a sanctuary for themselves in their homes. I visited one of these rooms. Shelves, laden with books, bordered the room. Candles were lit on several end tables. A miniature rock garden filled the space with the soothing sound of bubbling water. The coffee table was graced with an inviting pot of tea and an assortment of biscuits. It was a perfect place to meditate on scripture, commune with God through prayer, and visit with a close few.
Someday I'll have a room like that.
May God grant you a place where you can be real with Him, a space where you can sit, think, vent, cry, smile, and REST. May this New Year hold many beautiful moments where your spirit is free to run to Him.
I loved that place. I remember sitting there as a child. I recall how many of my senses were stimulated. My eyes delighted in the wild flowers that carpeted the ground. My ears were calmed by the gentle sound of the summer breeze as it whispered through the leaves. My nose picked up the fragrant smells of blossoming berry bushes. For a moment, it was me and the elements. Me and my God.
I was like any typical kid back then. I had fears. I had worries. I went through phases when I felt that nobody understood me. I felt awkward and ugly at times. And I planned elaborate schemes to run away (of course, I never would carry it out because I loved my family too much!). So, how would I deal with all my childhood troubles? I'd run out to my little patch in the woods. And I'd sit there. And think. And vent. And cry. And smile. And rest.
I miss that place.
A couple of my friends have prayer rooms. These sisters in the faith have carved out a sanctuary for themselves in their homes. I visited one of these rooms. Shelves, laden with books, bordered the room. Candles were lit on several end tables. A miniature rock garden filled the space with the soothing sound of bubbling water. The coffee table was graced with an inviting pot of tea and an assortment of biscuits. It was a perfect place to meditate on scripture, commune with God through prayer, and visit with a close few.
Someday I'll have a room like that.
May God grant you a place where you can be real with Him, a space where you can sit, think, vent, cry, smile, and REST. May this New Year hold many beautiful moments where your spirit is free to run to Him.