The sound of the wind in the trees has changed. For the next six months the trees will display their bones against the ever-changing sky and the wind will have no leaves with which to play. That is at least on the trees. The fallen leaves on the road look like crabs running sideways on a moonlit beach. But soon the wind will have to content itself by playing with frozen crystals and making mounds, again as if on a beach. Today the wind played with me by trying to sneak in between the buttons on my shirt and down my collar. The wind has its own sense of humor as it tries to decorate the bare trees with leftovers from the trash man’s pickups.
I love to hear the wind wrap itself around the corners of my house groaning a song saying, “Come on out and play. Let me restyle your hair and color your cheeks.” The wind is storing a cache of leaves in a corner by my office door. Year’s ago there was a time when the air speed indicator on my plane told me I was going 140 mph but the cars and trucks on the road below were passing me.
The wind does some wondrously creative things. It is no wonder Jesus uses the wind as a metaphor for the Holy Spirit. It also moves unseen among us as it treats us with all manner of influence on our behavior and on others about us. “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” John 3:8.
Written by Roger Bothwell on November 19, 2008
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