Wild Places

I am most truly content when I'm in the great outdoors.
It's where I commune best with my Creator.
I am convinced that the meadows are His antechamber and the forest His temple.
The wilderness? His cathedral.

In it, He has created for me a soothing sanctuary,
a calm hiding place, a wondrous playground.

I hear His voice most clearly in these untamed places. Calling me. 

Speaking my name from the woodland, He draws me out..

I follow His voice, seeking Him. Never has He hidden.

Always I find Him.  Here.

I see His craftsmanship at every turn.
The sky is His canvas.
The heavens and earth His artistry.
He adorns the field with bird, butterfly and berry.
He washes my eyes with colors, blue, green, gold.
Shades so familiar yet unnameable, even though I try.
His palette defies replication, the tone and hue known only to Him.

His fragrance, the air itself, a sweet scent on the wind.
His incense is the pine forest,
the honeyed aroma of the wildflower.
His spice, the shaded glen.
In winter He speaks to me in the hushed tones of snow on pine.
The woods are tranquil and sleepy. I hear Him whisper...peace..rest.

Listen. do you hear?

All the earth and every creature that on it dwells,

Exalting Him in their own tongue.

The wind whispers His name. 

Holy. Holy. Holy is the Lord God Almighty.

Bees hum, birds sing His praises.

The high whinny of the horse announces His glory!

Holy! Holy is the Lord God almighty. 

Even the rocks cry out His name.

My spirit quickens within me to join the song.

The trees begin to bow and sway, applauding His presence.
He is here. He is here!
My heart lightens as I run to Him,
For tranquility and rest are in His bosom.
Safety and love are found neath the shelter of His wings,
My one true home is in His arms...

Here.  In the wild.