Before You Call

IMG_8864.JPGIMG_8858It was the fifth place I’d stopped.

The mosquitoes were getting a bit old.

I was soaked to the skin from refusing to sacrifice valuable time to take cover during the morning’s intermittent rain showers.

My legs were tired from tromping down forest trails and clambering through underbrush.

Water squelched inside my soggy shoes as I squatted wearily down near the head of this fifth trail, peering off across the forest floor, and said out loud, “Lord, I know you don’t have to give me a mushroom, but”—and exactly at that moment, before I could even get my request for help in finding “just one, please?” out of my mouth, my eyes rested on this honeycombed finger-like shape:IMG_8885.JPGA scoffer might call it a coincidence, but I know it wasn’t.  I labor under no delusion that just because I tell God something I want, He’ll snap His fingers and make it appear—but I also know that He can, and sometimes will.  I also know that I have never chosen to acknowledge God’s power and control, while admitting my inadequacy, without finding Him sufficient to provide the very best.  Sometimes His answer to our problems is different than the solution we visualized in our mind.  Sometimes, it’s exactly what we were hoping for—and more.IMG_8886-1.jpgI don’t know if anyone else within five lonely forest miles heard me yelling my excitement and thanks, but I know He did—and I hope it made Him smile.

And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.” (Isaiah 65:24)

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find.” (Matthew 7:7)

See photos from another successful morel hunt here, and from an unsuccessful one here!

Stand Still and See

IMG_8295.JPGIf you walk out into the middle of the woods and stand very still for a while, a very delightful thing will happen.

The forest will slowly come alive around you. You may have thought it was alive before that, but the truth is, you haven’t actually experienced the half of it.

First, you will become more distinctly aware of the sounds of the more extroverted creatures of the woods.  A woodpecker beating sharp staccato, the twittering of newly-returned robins, the distant honking of geese.

But keep waiting, because there is more to come.

After a few minutes, a grouse will drum on a nearby log.  A stick will crack in the woods, then another, as the cautious deer who froze at the sound of your footsteps decides it’s safe to move on.  And then will begin the rustling in the leaves, and you will realize that it is not the breeze at play, but squirrels and mice and tiny birds.

As your ears become more attuned, your eyes will also become more aware of details.

You’ll realize that there’s delicate frost from a chilly spring morning lacing the strawberry leaf by your feet that you very nearly trampled.IMG_8293 You’ll note a tiny clump of British soldier lichen clinging to the edge of a mossy stump that would have only registered “green” in hurried passing.IMG_8300-1.jpgYou’ll tip your head up and see the beginning of the swelling red of the maple buds overhead, fanned against the sky.IMG_8283.JPGYou’ll notice the delicate lacy veins of last year’s leaves, splendidly illuminated in the morning sunlight, and also the way a certain flap of simple birch bark is catching the sun just right to make it glow.IMG_8290IMG_8286.JPGYour eyes will follow the slant of a fallen log down to a hole and, well, look!  The very culprit of the rustling himself appears.IMG_8311There is no shortcut to the gifts that come from being still, but they are always incredibly, beautifully worth it.  And, incidentally?  The same is said for the soul and the best gift one could ever ask for.

“Stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD.” (Exodus 14:13)

No doing.  No striving.  Just simple, trusting, expectant stillness.