For the last several days on my evening walk, I've seen a beaver in the creek along the walking path. He's a good-size fellow, and he's been diligently working on building a dam. We haven't had rain for a while, so the creek has been clear, making it easy to see Mr. Beaver even when he would dive beneath the water to swim for a bit. Each night, I've stopped and pointed out the beaver to J.R. the wiener dog, who is a great deal less impressed with the creature than I am. He much prefers to gaze upon the family of ducks that resides a bit farther down on our route.
Today is a gray and chilly day with the forecast calling for rain and storms moving in tomorrow. For some reason, the creek was quite cloudy and dull today as J.R. and I made our daily trek along the path. I stopped at the spot where I usually see Mr. Beaver, or Bucky, as I have affectionately named him, and scanned the muddy water in search of his furry body. I must have waited there for 10 minutes or longer, gazing intently, hoping for a glance of Bucky when I noticed a ripple in the creek. I stood poised for a glimpse of the critter, when softly and quietly his little black nose lifted above the water line. And then as gently as he rose, he descended back into the murkiness and disappeared from my view.
As I clucked to J.R. to recommence our walking, I couldn't stop thinking about Bucky, the muddy water and the significance of my sighting of him today. You see, for all my scanning and searching for him, I was unable to see Bucky until he chose to make his presence known to me. And even though I couldn't see him, Bucky the beaver was there all along.
The longer I walked, the more I thought of how often I stare into the muddy, dark water of life ... scanning, searching ... looking for something or someone to fill the void in my heart or to soothe my troubled spirit. And as so often happens as I walk, I became aware that God was once again using His creation to impart a great truth to me. When life is at its darkest, when I am at my loneliest, when the water is at its muddiest ... when I can't see Him, God is there all along.
Maybe, just maybe, I should wait more ... wait for Him to rise above the water and make His presence known to me. Hmmmm .... maybe?
1 comment:
that's incredible insight, and all from little beaver's nose! ;) i like it. isn't it funny how we become attached to all of these trailmates of ours? i have turtles i always look for on my route. its wonderful to be out there and be a part of something much bigger than my little house. i definitely find god out there on the trail. in fact its my fave spot to find him usually! ;)
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