Dark green leaves of August hung still in today’s heavy summer haze. The day was filled with activities that required little movement lest one begin to sweat and stick to everything. Sitting at a table by an open window I listened to and watched my neighbor mow his perfect lawn. The first table I ever recall eating from was that table. Perhaps it shall be the last table I shall eat from. The storm came as quietly as ants on my kitchen floor. So gently did the breeze first come through the window I did not notice. It was the smell of coming rain that woke me to the awareness that the dark green maple was stirring. It is a wonderful smell. I love that smell. I loved the first drops on the window panes. My neighbor headed for shelter. There is something so deeply, so lavishly rich about a warm summer rain.
It is no wonder Jesus spoke of the Holy Spirit coming upon us like a soft wind and rain. See John 3. There is a gentle stirring inside. It is the softness of a still small voice that makes us restless and uncomfortable with now. We dream dreams of what could be if. “If” is a disturbing word. “If” makes us understand our need for something richer and deeper. We need our lives to mean something beyond these eighty to ninety journeys around our sun. There is a hunger for eternity and we know it is beyond ourselves to make it happen. The inner plea is to accept the gift of a loving heavenly Father who also longs for us to share with Him the incredible vastness of His universe.
Written by Roger Bothwell on August 6, 2009
Spring of Life Ministry, PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574
rogerbothwell.org