Without A Word
Tonight I am sitting on a small rock bridge at the Links of Utopia. I make it back here a few times per year to breathe deep and refresh my soul. And while it isn’t the famous Swilken Bridge of St. Andrew’s pictured with me above and while it isn’t the home of golf, for me, it is the epicenter of my soul on earth. Whether I am here or not, it’s the place from which my soul writes to you in my books and blogs.
The quiet is so loud here. I ask God to speak, and I sit still and listen. He always speaks to me here. Tonight I didn't hear a word. But I noticed His hand as he gently began the movement of His paintbrush in the sky. The colors he used were anything but primary. Otherworldly they were as He splashed them whimsically upon the exquisitely shaped clouds. The hues intensified until they faded gently into tomorrow. But the final pastels hung for most of an hour as if to say, “linger here with me.” And then pinholes to heaven began to appear, all the while a vermillion flycatcher lit on the highest branch of a young stoic oak. The vermillion color pierced the fading sky with a red that only God could imagine. Then appeared another pinhole, and another… twinkling guides of the night. And then a gentle flash caught my attention in the silhouetted bushes along the creek as the evening opus of the firefly began. One then two… then an entire array of flashing ballerinas dancing with joy and wonder enveloped this moment.
Oh yes, God spoke to me. He knew I had too many words in my head. So tonight, He spoke without a word. It was beautiful, it was powerful, it was real. Without a word, He spoke… and it quieted my soul.
“I am humbled and quieted in your presence. Like a contented child who rests on its mother’s lap, I’m your resting child and my soul is content in you.”
- Psalm 131:2 TPT
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