A Singing Father God

‘He will rejoice over you with singing.’ 

I was sitting in the prayer window this morning, enjoying the beauty of the fast-falling golden leaves and noticing that the barer the trees get, the clearer the view. In the profusion of life, vision can be blocked by the lushness of relationships, responsibilities and requirements. Hemmed in – though many of the obstructions are much loved and enjoyed – we can lose sight of what lies beyond. It’s as the leaves begin to drop and the profusion is stripped away, that we can see the view and anticipate the journey.

So Scolty has reappeared, as the Norwegian elm drops her summer attire. And Clach na Ben.

Oops, that was a wee diversion. I was actually going to say that while asking God this morning if I could please hear him singing – wouldn’t it be awesome to hear his voice? Would it be operatic, hip-hop, pop, reggae, chorister?  – I was suddenly aware of the trilling, chirping and chatter of the birds in the larch tree. Singing. Singing.

Sometimes when I ask for the supernatural, I’m answered in the ordinary. The beautiful ordinary becomes extraordinary. My hearing of the birdsong has acquired a new depth, a greater meaning.

He’s rejoicing over you, too.