listening
It was on another day, in another place and earlier during the season – and I listened. This was a wonderful day of false spring with the temperature going up into the 70's – very odd for February. My area of listening was populated almost totally by trees and was situated between two older housing developments.
The air seemed to be nearly filled with the sounds of wild birds that were very encouraged by the warm weather. My ears could detect the sound of at least four or five different species. They ranged from the tiniest of peeps to the song of larger birds and even the raucous, far off caw of a crow. About a block away the crowing of a two-rooster competition could be heard, each loudly proclaiming that they were the head fowl.
Down in the valley the somewhat forlorn and lonely sound of a train whistle was cast onto the airwaves. The growl of a distant chainsaw presented itself along with the sharp whir of a brush chipper and I knew that some natural growth was coming down to earth.
The barking of a dog, challenging any that would care to listen, spoke that this was his yard and any trespasser would have to answer to him.
A woodpecker was sound-marking his territory by making a loud rat-a-tat on what seemed to be a sheet of tin – it’s just something they do.
Then I listened more intently. A still small voice spoke to my spirit and witnessed to me that all these sounds were made for my enjoyment and told me that I was much loved by my heavenly Father. I'm resolved to quiet the noise in my life enough that I can better hear Him and thereby follow more closely. ec
The air seemed to be nearly filled with the sounds of wild birds that were very encouraged by the warm weather. My ears could detect the sound of at least four or five different species. They ranged from the tiniest of peeps to the song of larger birds and even the raucous, far off caw of a crow. About a block away the crowing of a two-rooster competition could be heard, each loudly proclaiming that they were the head fowl.
Down in the valley the somewhat forlorn and lonely sound of a train whistle was cast onto the airwaves. The growl of a distant chainsaw presented itself along with the sharp whir of a brush chipper and I knew that some natural growth was coming down to earth.
The barking of a dog, challenging any that would care to listen, spoke that this was his yard and any trespasser would have to answer to him.
A woodpecker was sound-marking his territory by making a loud rat-a-tat on what seemed to be a sheet of tin – it’s just something they do.
Then I listened more intently. A still small voice spoke to my spirit and witnessed to me that all these sounds were made for my enjoyment and told me that I was much loved by my heavenly Father. I'm resolved to quiet the noise in my life enough that I can better hear Him and thereby follow more closely. ec
posted by mreddie | 10:18 PM
4 Comments:
Cat phobia. That's understandable to choose the wife.
I grew up surrounded by cats. They can be a pain but the house would seem a little empty without at least one making a nuisance of him/herself.
granny - Don't know exactly how that came about, something when she was very young. ec
God’s small voice does have a habit of speaking to us—when we are listening. Of course, God may also speak to us after getting our attention: “What are you doing here, Elijah?"
SSN - I don't think Elijah really knew what he was doing there at that moment. And at times I have doubts about what I'm doing here as well, but then I go back to my Source of spiritual comfort and Jesus informs me, in any one of several ways, exactly why I am where I am. ec
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