I don’t believe God resides in the blasting music on Sunday mornings nor do I suppose He shines through the colorful lights illuminating the band. I don’t hear Him call out over the roaring crowd. I don’t presume His presence increases with the heavy bass in the music. I don’t assume we improve His existence through dancing on stage. The God I encounter is still— calmly reminding me He stands by my side while laying path miles in front of me.
God resides atop the mountains, too vast for our eyes to comprehend, too intricate for an artist to capture on canvases. He rests at the steepest peaks of silver, rocky cliffs, capped with pure, white snow… glittering from the rays of sun peeking through the downy clouds. No man could ever climb to His heights.
His hand melts with the snow, rolling down along the rocks. He supplies riverbeds with life. He cascades over cliffs, creating misty waterfalls. I hear Him in the breezy hum through the quaking trees, I catch Him in the brightness of the wildflowers, and I know Him at the sight of the sparrow. His presence provides life to everything He touches.
Yet, even though He sits above me, orchestrating everything around me, He still travels with me in the valley. I stand barefoot against the earth, feet held by the waving grass, His sun illuminating my face. I close my eyes at the brilliance, feeling its warmth on my eyelids. I witness His company all around me— the song of the birds, the ocean winds of the grassland, and the water-colored sunset skies. His creation sings and dances with His glory, He doesn’t need to shout or storm in the sky. His presence is calming, reflected in the steadiness of nature— supplying and always uplifting His creatures. From the sparrow to the fish in the streams, He cares for each. Yet with His many duties, He seeks me. He whispers in the breeze and through the trees to reach me— I am here. To guide me, He sent a precious gift, His son. His son walks beside me in the valley guiding my steps and building my path. When I waver, He gently nudges me back onto the path He wove. The longer I walk with Him, the more I trust. I glance back, recalling all He has done for me. Behind me, I see battles won, witness dangers avoided, and lessons learned. I must then look up to acknowledge how He’s provided and protected me.
Lastly, I gaze forward at the future. The way isn’t clear. Dim clouds and fog crowd the distance… the path winds and snakes until it disappears behind tall peaks— worry creeps into my mind as I look onto the unknown. His hand reaches out and holds mine, I acknowledge His presence again. He nudges me to take a step forward. I trust Him as I journey farther down the path… further into the valley.
I cannot deny, I witness His reflection in nature.