One of my favorite things about walking in the park each and every day was witnessing the ebb and flow of God’s creation. From calm, composed moss to suddenly surfacing groundhogs, every hushed moment in nature is a bold, holy moment, the divine ethereal made visible in the pulse of a frog
The path to the pond dripped with the night’s rain but I wanted to rest atop the piled tree roots near the water. I like to talk to God from that place. I like to skim my prayers out over the water and see where He takes them. When I rose again from my hidden spot, I caught a glimpse of a goose laying silent and still in hers. Her long neck curved under a wing and her awkward, lifeless posture swelled with breath when she heard me. I lingered to watch her warming her eggs, unflappable in her duty. Days later I would peek again to find one abandoned egg among the broken pieces of those who waddled away with mother.
Death and failure litter the banks of this mankind’s great season here on earth, but God is sovereign and His way is life. God’s plan endures; He remains, eternally, and He has given me everlasting life with Him. Not a season but an eternity, not a possibility but a promise.
Fruit trees of all kinds will grow on both banks of the river. Their leaves will not wither, nor will their fruit fail. Every month they will bear fruit, because the water from the sanctuary flows to them. Their fruit will serve for food and their leaves for healing.” Ezekiel 47:12
Meeting God at the Park 