Sometimes we have to journey onto the path of the familiar – for the purposes of being brought full circle with the new.
Our haughtiness is not unlike a fort that we sequester ourselves in – resolving not to venture out, because fear informs our processes.
And it is fear that we are in ceaseless conflict with.
Having to contend with the foundation of what we thought we knew…
Being torn down and washed away has a baptismal quality of sorts.
As I walked through the familiar grounds of a Maryland State Park that I frequent with regularity earlier this morning.
I stumbled onto a trail that I’d never seen before, as I walked the path, I was startled by a waterfall that seemed to come out of nowhere.
I sat there for awhile on top of the base of the rocks and enveloped myself in the solace, sketching out the outlines of this piece that you are reading now.
As I made my way up from the waterfall I saw another, smaller waterfall and a path that lead up to a higher elevation of the park.
I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a loud crack behind me, I looked back…
And – I was startled as I bore witness to a large segment of a tree break off and hit the ground a couple yards behind me.
Nonplussed, I continued my walk through the park reassured that metaphors are the mouthpiece of the Almighty.
God doesn’t have to shout when whispering is enough.
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