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I arise in the morning, just before the rising of the sun. The early morning fog has not lifted, but it’s lifting. Mixed with the powerful song of a nearby river, I hear His beautiful voice, calling me to walk and talk with Him. His voice thrills my soul as I respond to His call to join His side, to spend time with Him, to talk of the coming day.
As we walk, I hear the crunch from the carpet of old, fallen, brown pine needles, releasing their rich scent with each step we take. Here and there delicate ferns grow amidst the giants, adding grace to the forest cathedral.
The forest is beautiful. Birds are singing, squirrels fussing with blue jays, we laugh at their small arguments. The sweet smell of the morning breeze enters our nostrils. I look in wonder at the majesty of these magnificent trees. Their graceful branches reaching to the sky, like giants raising their arms in praise to the God who created them. I stop, touch the bark of a tree. I take in its aroma, the stickiness of its sap clings to my hands, but I need to touch His beautiful creation. Yes, the morning is beautiful, but not as beautiful as my Lord walking with me.
He has old scars of past suffering around his temples, on His hands, His feet, and I know, on his back and sides. These scars hold a beauty of their own, more beautiful than even the most delicate, precious crown He could wear. The scars are beautiful, because He bore them for me. I look into His eyes, they are laughing, smiling eyes. Eyes that see deep into my soul, seeing things no one else can see.
When His voice speaks, all other voices are quieted. The birds, the breeze, the squirrels, the river, all fall silent, hushed by the beauty of His voice; it draws their attention, and mine is fixed, only on Him. The forest is so magnificent, so regal, but it pales in comparison to the Holy One who loves me like no other. “For my Maker is my Husband, the Lord of Hosts is His Name; and my Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel; He is called the Lord of the whole earth.”
He talks to me of all my heart can understand. There are things only he and I will share together. Those things I cannot understand, He simply says, “Trust me,”. My heart is quieted, I know I can trust Him with my life and with the lives of those who are precious to me. “I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever. For great is your love toward me; you have delivered me from the depths of the grave.”
Too soon, He speaks the words I dread, “It’s time to go.”
“Lord, so soon?”
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“It won’t be always.”
“Remember, be strong and of good courage for I am with you wherever you go.”