Close to our home there is a trail that meanders deep into a cedar forest. The massive cedars are first growth trees that soar high above our heads, up into the skies, crowding out the direct light. So the sunlight filters through their leafy branches, creating a soft, velvety glow to light the pathways. The trails are a reddish hue because of the cedar trees carpeting the pathways with their red needles and branches. The smell is heavenly, robust with the scent of cedar and the earth.
And within this wooded cathedral, there is a pervasive silence. A dense and sacred stillness.
I love taking deep rejuvenating breaths of the fresh air. Centering myself in the stillness and the silence.
And letting my soul quiet.
Escaping into the forest’s silence and stillness and freshness is healing and invigorating and life giving.
Scripture reveals that Christ regularly withdrew from the crowds into isolated, secluded places where he could pray and centre himself, and find rest.
“And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he departed and went out to a desolate place, and there he prayed.” (Mark 1:35)
“But he would withdraw to desolate places and pray.” (Luke 5:15-16)
And he said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a desolate place by themselves.” (Mark 6:31-32)
I think we are also called to this practise, where we take time to withdraw from the chaos and noise and demands of our daily lives, and enter into silent, sacred spaces.
Where our hearts and minds and souls have the freedom to drink deeply of the stillness and calm. And where, in creation’s most stunning cathedrals, we can encounter God and find a profound renewal and peace.
@fiveminutefriday weekly Friday prompt: SILENCE
Photo credits: Vladimir Kudinov and Derrick Cooper, from Unsplash