We hike in the dry heat.
I notice this: The cactus finds a way to bloom in this parched land.
|Cactus Blooming Yellow
I’ve never in my life seen a cactus blooming up in the mountains. Surely, this plant stores up what it can. It adapts to its environment to avoid water loss and immediately sends out roots wherever and whenever a water source arrives.
I’m amazed at everything I see, but then I hear something just as amazing. A waterfall roars somewhere up ahead. Just the sound of it begins to refresh me.
The mountain rocks yield to a glorious sight in the blazing sun. A waterfall!
A clear, icy pool of water collects at the base.
We wade in, even in our shoes, even in our clothing. We are cacti sending out roots.
All day, I think about sending out roots–wading in–to those things that refresh the soul. A cactus can bloom in the desert if she knows when and where to send out roots.
I pray I know when and where to best wade in.
Journal: Besides spiritual practices that connect us deeply to God, what projects, friendships, or habits might we wade in to find refreshment?
|Waterfall After the Rain
When I’m out here in the woods, I don’t think about shopping or decorating my house or how many pounds I have to lose.
When I’m out here in the woods, I listen to the way the water sounds as it spills down this hill.
And when I’m out here in the woods, I talk with my friend about Jesus and truth and meaning.
There’s something about creeks and rivers that sets my soul back on track. I look deep into the pools that gather by fallen logs, hoping to see fish or turtles.
I’ve never, even after all these years and pages and pages of writing, been able to capture in words what it feels like to stand by the rushing water in the deep woods.
It’s too powerful for words.
|Water Rushing in the Deep Woods
Living with flair means finding places with God that go deeper than language.
Journal: What’s that sublime place for me?
We can’t find the mountain trail for our evening hike.
Some kids pass by. One calls out: “You looking for something?” We describe the trail. He nods. “Follow me. I can show you.”
He delivers us to our destination. He mentions different paths to avoid and various landmarks to spot. Then he returns to his friends. He didn’t have to help. There was no reward for him. He was just helpful.
The boy had flair. Would I have done that for somebody?
I thought about who might be lost and needs me to say, “Follow me. I can show you.”