I could sit and watch them for hours. Soaking in every detail and absorbing the vast changing panorama. The beauty of God’s creation is a balm to my soul.
For as long as I can remember, I have been a great lover of trees. Large and small, so many shapes and features. Like people, each one unique. Quiet and still, there they stand. Some stooping and crooked; some tall and proud; some weeping and breezy… but all of them standing firm.
Growing resolutely wherever the good LORD planted them. Not imposing or interfering. Just standing there – whether swaying gently in the breeze, or rocked violently by the storm – doesn’t seem to matter. They stand there silent, except for the rustling of the leaves or the occasional creaking of a branch as it rubs against another.
The birds flit too and fro among the treetops, small animals scamper along the branches and make their homes deep in the strong warm boughs. It is nothing and everything to the tree. Part of the daily rhythm of life. The tree stands still and silent. Yet in the quiet I can hear a shout. A shout of praise to the Creator. In silence and solitude they proclaim the goodness and the glory of God.
As I sit beneath them, gazing up through their leaves to the clear blue; or wander through a grove enjoying the smell of wood and earth; they whisper to me that all is well. Be still, and know that I am God, they seem to repeat. Like a beacon in the night of a troublesome world. Sure and confident. Simple and strong. A balm to my soul.
First posted August 21, 2021
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