Little Lessons from a Morning Walk...

Friday, April 10, 2015



Its sunrise on a misty morning.  I can hear the birds singing through the window loud and strong.  Two escaped hens beckon me outside to shoo them back to their enclosure and the moment I step outside my whole being is filled with a fresh awakening.

Two days of cold, hard rain and stormy skies has brought a much needed warmth to the air.  The atmosphere hangs moist and sweet around me.  The end of a long, long winter, I think its finally here.

I decide to go jogging instead of retreating to the basement for my morning exercise.  I have no proper jogging clothes, but I don't want to wake the rest of the family, so, naturally, I jog in my pyjamas.  Hey, we live in the country - no one really sees me anyways.

Besides, here's the thing about my morning jogs, I fell like I can confess to you -  they almost always turn into walks.  Partly because I'm out of shape but mostly because I can't help but slow down at every turn to breathe in the wonder.

The trees whisper in light spring breeze.

The Robin chants his loud, "Cheer up, Cherrio!" with great passion.

A Red Tailed Hawk gracefully circles overhead, right on my path.

How can I just pound feet and blaze on past?

How can I not slow the body down and in doing so, slow enough to take in God's glory?


All of nature sings His praise - yes, it does.  

But we have to open our ears to hear it.

Spring time to me is like the opening of the whole world and the waking up, reviving of the green- glorious green.  And as I jog/walk along the wooded path, I can't help but whisper praises to Adonai, Creator God who brings the blossoms and inspires the birds to sing their mesmerizing songs.

Oh, and it is a masterpiece of a symphony on this first truly warm morning.  I can hear Red-winged Blackbirds, Sparrows (all kinds!), Crows, Robins, Cardinals, Chickadees, and even the screech of the Raptors in the distance.  All of His natural world sings His praise - and perhaps this is why we are, innately, so drawn to the natural world.  

Not the world of walls and malls and buy this, buy that.

No.  The awe-inspiring simplicity of towering trees, scurrying squirrels, and flowing freshwater.

This is where His praises are chanted high and fearless.  This is where His glory is found in a heartbeat.  And this is where I long to be and where I long for my children to be.  To see how immensely powerful and beautiful and creative our Lord is and how He is right here, right now.

And its surrounded by nature that I am so often reminded of the lessons I need to know and need to remember.  I can crouch low and touch the newly blossomed wild flowers and I am reminded of God's faithfulness.  No matter how long that Winter may seem, He will bring Spring.  I can admire the beauty of the bright yellow petals that seem to magically sprout up out of nowhere.  Out of ground that was covered in frost and ice only weeks ago.  And I wonder too, why is it that we insist on calling some flowers weeds?  Isn't that just a human title?  I'd so prefer to think of all flowers as beautiful, made for a purpose.

Created so bright and glorious so we can be reminded to God's light and awesome creativity.  How He brings beauty out of mud and how that beauty rises right on up and through those old Autumn leaves, a new day dawning, another Season singing praise.









Little Lessons from my Morning Walk:


Don't be afraid to praise God like the birds.  

Do we stop to listen?  Do we truly hear them?  They tirelessly chirp and sing, glorifying their Father in Heaven with every trill.  All different tunes and tones, all unique, but all beautiful.  All precious in His sight, for not even one of them falls that He does not know about.  All these sweet, comical friends - all made to lift His name.  Why can't we sing out a love song to our God, just like these resilient feathered miracles?   Unashamed, in shear joy, praising Him for the morning glory?


Beauty comes after the storm.

Yes.  This is one of those profound truths most of us know deep down but forget too often.  It took two days of dreary and drenched weather to bring the breathtaking beauty of one of the first humid, sing-song mornings.  Isn't there truth in this for our spiritual, emotional, and physical lives?  


Symphony moments don't last forever.

When I woke at 6:30am, the birds were all singing the most unbelievable chorus to their Creator.  It seemed every bird in the neighbourhood was joining in.  And as I walked, they continued... but they didn't sing like that forever.  By about 8:30 am the singing had slowed and I could hear only a few birds still persistent in song.  Beautiful but nothing like that early morning symphony.  

And isn't that so much like life?  There are those moments that are full of all the glory of a symphony of praise if we only just stop and take them in.  Those few minutes in life where God is desperately whispering a love song to us and yet, how often are we too busy to notice?  How often do they pass us by, unnoticed?


Slowing down is essential.

If we refuse to slow our pace, we refuse to see where and how God is moving.  When our feet are pounding the pavement and speeding from this thing to that... we are like reckless beings crashing through the day.  And there is usually quite the mess left behind.

We also fail to see the beauty of the simple things.  The joy right there in that moment.  The overwhelming love of the Father who causes the rain to fall and the sun to shine and the birds to sing and those little yellow flowers to bloom.  He beckons us to slow ourselves down.  To stop and look.  To pause and listen.  To take time to see all He has done, all He is doing, and all He will do.







Praise God for morning walks and for a Lord who whispers to this mess of a country girl in PJs.

Blessings and hugs to you and your family this weekend...






All Things Bright and Beautiful
by Cecil Frances Alexander

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,

All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,

Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colours,
He made their tiny wings.

The rich man in his castle,

The poor man at his gate,
God made them high and lowly,
And ordered their estate.

The purple headed mountain,

The river running by,
The sunset and the morning,
That brightens up the sky;−

The cold wind in the winter,

The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,−
He made them every one:

The tall trees in the greenwood,

The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water,
We gather every day;−

He gave us eyes to see them,

And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.



No comments:

Post a Comment

I cherish your comments:

Proudly designed by Mlekoshi playground