the silent uplifiting

"There is a silent uplifting impartation from the Absolute. It does us good to look up and see Orion driving his hunting dogs across the Zenith, or Andromeda shaking out her tresses over limitless space...It enlarges the self to have studied great architecture; to know great art--the red of Titian, the sunset of Turner, the seas of Winslow Homer; to have felt the spell of epic heroism; to have swung to the rhythmic pulse of Homer; to have known the tenderness of Francis of Assisi...to have heard the whirring of angels' wings in Milton's 'Paradise Lost'; to have been swept away on the streams of Beethoven's music; to engrave the prologue to the Gospel of John on the heart; and to march with the majestic affirmations of the Nicean Creed...It does something inside a man. It stretches him mentally, stirs him morally, inspires him spiritually...."
- Peter Marshall

There are days that you hike to no end, and others that you hike until you find a silent place to stop. Today I hiked to stop and be still for awhile. The world was still with me for that while, silently calling glory back to its Maker who had generously opened the storehouses of snow to ornament our home here. I find a lot to pray about in those times alone, but find myself even more these days simply enjoying the presence of God, which involves a good deal of listening and loving. I am learning that sometimes our lives can be covered by a blanket of snow, suppressing--as it may--with all its might the budding efforts of spring life. The snow postpones as long as it can and tempts despair with its chaotic flurries. It covers the city and binds the roads. But when the spring sun rises at just the right time--as does the Son of God in our hearts--the snow has no power to remain. The snow can never cool down the sun, just as our sin can never cool down the love of Christ. He will conquer whatever heart He pursues. Today my silent snow wandering reminded me that is the power of God that thawed my heart and, I believe, will also save this city.

Also, an hour visit with an old friend, who chuckled at my getting old even though he is topping 95 years. He is always kind to do most of the talking and also to offer advice freely. His advice is not always words though. His voice trembles and verges on sobbing when he asks for the scriptures to be read and reread. The subject of prayer frequents almost every paragraph of conversation. His belief is the centerpiece of his existence. Jesus is without a doubt his closest friend and heaven is talked of so sweetly and obviously that you would think he had memories of a recent visit to his future home. With fading memory he takes the time and energy to be concerned about me, which is usually expressed humorously. After being a bachelor for 95 years he encouraged me to get to know one of the nurses at his care facility when he found out that I wasn't dating anyone. More advice was to keep running so that I will continue to grow strong. He has reached the level of unashamed appreciation that comes with years of living (I hope more of us can reach that stage early on in life). The whole time I spent with him he held my hand and would tell me frequently how much he appreciated the visit. I did too.