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Wednesday, 11 April 2012

Who's that Knocking?

I turned down the lane before 8. The ground was still soaking from yesterday’s relentless showers, but overhead the skies were clearing and the birds raised spring voices in a joyous chorus.

I paused because the tapping of the woodpecker was louder, closer than I’d ever heard. We see them occasionally at the bird feeder, and magnificent they are with their stylish red splotch, and I often hear them at a distance, but never before as close as this. 

Dusty passed me, sniffing out bunnies and pheasants, wondering, no doubt, what had halted my progress. I just stood looking up, trying to see the woodpecker in the tall pine. But try as I might, I just couldn’t see him.

As we carried on, I tuned my ears for other birdsongs, and I became aware of the rhythm of each call. I guess it’s obvious there is a rhythm, for without rhythm, each bird would just staccato deliver its notes and no song would be distinctive. Each is distinctive because of the cadence, as well as the notes. 

Ok, that’s all pretty obvious, but this morning I just found it so refreshing to let my mind clear and just listen to the rhythm of the morning. I let the distant sound of traffic fade, the occasional blast of overflying jets pass without notice. I stopped talking to God. Normally, I carry on a pretty constant monologue with my Maker as I walk, bringing before Him all those I love and for whom I am concerned. 

But this morning I closed my mouth, and listened.  It was the sound of the feathered chorus in the trees that captivated me.

How often does God long for me to just ‘be’ in his presence. To listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To rejoice in the beauty of his creation. To be refreshed by him.

But I babble on. Sorry.

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