31 Days: Alone with God

Without solitude it is virtually impossible
to live a spiritual life.

… We do not take the spiritual life seriously if we do not set aside some time to be with God
and listen to him.

~Henri Nouwen

This is Day 7 of the series 31 Days to Listen.

31 Days: Listening to nature

The first thing I notice is the sound of frogs, loud and persistent. Their joyful chorus resounds around the edge of the lake. The birds add their voices in harmony. Sunlight filters through the eucalyptus trees, paths wind through magnolias, rhododendrons and camellias.

I follow a fairy wren along a path up the hillside, slowly, among tall gum trees and flowering carpets of ground covers, hellebores and bluebells. I don’t want to miss the gifts along the way.

I soak in the beauty. Listen and rest.

I can still hear the frog-song up on the hill out of sight of the lake. I listen to the birds calling one another from the tree tops. A family of twelve – mum, dad and ten tiny ducklings – meander their way down towards the lake.

Everywhere there is new life.

The winter is gone, spring has come. And I am blessed.

This is Day 6 of the series 31 Days to Listen. For more information about this challenge, and to see others are writing, visit Write 31 Days.

When listening to myself is important

The sun is shining, but there’s still mist on the ground, wreathing tree trunks and blanketing paddocks. Winter is here, just beginning, and somehow beautiful. It’s early(ish) morning and I’m riding the bus to work. I wish I was out walking instead, enjoying the quiet, watching steam rise off ponds in the nearby wetlands. I wish I was out photographing the hills and valleys in their misty garments.

And now the bus heads down the hill onto the plains, into the suburbs, and the weather is closing in. Dark clouds suspended overhead, and milky fog as we descend.

And life feels like that sometimes, longing for space to enjoy the beauty, but feeling inexorably dragged into the grey heaviness of daily routines and responsibilities. I can’t just choose not to show up because I’d rather be doing something else. People depend on me to be there. I depend on me to earn a living. And truthfully, I like my job.

But the longing is telling me that I also need to make space – space for my soul, space for rest, space for God.

If you listen, what are your longings telling you?

Image sourced here.