A Short Thought from an Evening Walk

Recently, some friends (and C.S. Lewis) inspired me to explore nature as a professor. A professor explores with the humble heart of an observer, watching and listening as creation unfolds itself. He seeks to learn and enjoy, as opposed to a magician who seeks to control and derive profit that should not be his to gain. The heart and mind of a professor are aligned in simple adoration and hope to instruct others in this way of experiencing nature and God. (See The Magician’s Nephew if you’re confused)

            So tonight, in the midst of my anxious thoughts about life and the numerous disappointments of the current times, I strapped on my Colorado flag Chacos. I walked down a path I’ve never taken before, I picked wildflowers, and I chased the sunset.

            At the beginning of the walk, my mind was still plagued with questions and worries. What do I do next, God? Would you have me stay where I am or look elsewhere? How do I find purpose when I can’t do the job I came here to do? So many demands for clarity and direction. As I walked though, I noticed. My inward focus was pulled outward, and slowly, contentment and peace trickled into my troubled heart.

            My soul is quiet and still now, not because I achieved a resolution to any of my problems, nor because my questions are now answered, not even because of a platitude of a silver lining. No, stillness came when I stopped to listen to the song of creation. It’s an old song of new life, and as I heard the wind whisper through the leaves, I felt the voice of my God and Creator whisper, “I am here.” My worry became worship, my anxiety became adoration, and joining in the creation’s song was as simple as breathing.