1. This post is not about Lagos (I'm in the U.S.)
2. This post is not about food.
With foreseen pressures welding up inside, I decided to seek a place outside of man's creation. A place where I could prayerfully immerse my being in God's great landscape.
Not aquatinted with my surroundings I began strolling about for a secluded sanctuary, and moseyed upon a trail screaming with peace. The trail had turned a crisp pale yellow that snapped beneath my every step. The air consumed with evocative aromas of spicy earth that fills California in the arid summers months. Baby mallard daintily swam upon the fluid water, warming their feathered backs in the sun-filled day.
A steep clearing descended it's way to the water's edge, calling for my immediate adventure. True to my younger form, I slid down the loose earth to meet the running creek. I perched atop the broad rocks protruding above the water. Now secluded from the trail and readied with prayers, I began to flow of peace as the currant drifted by.
My gaze soon fell upon a colossal gathering of foam that assembled ahead. Rush upon rush of the endless stream the foam only grew. Each tiny bubble forming from the forceful waters clung to the side of this great rock. Seemingly refusing to carry out with it's onward journey.
I continued to observed this motion thinking: Yes, the currant's force was strong, but if only the weightless foam could see that smooth waters laid ahead.
I wondered if then, would the tiny bubbles release it's self from the heavy boulder that which it clung to finish it's exciting course. Surely obstacles and rough streams were bound to come again. But wouldn't the trials forthcoming be strengthened by the current clash it just endured?
Sprouting at my side was the heightened serenity of all the creek. In the midst of the roughest waters, on the smallest of foundations grew a beaming array of lengthy grass.
I couldn't help but be mesmerized at the ease in which it matured in the core of the running stream. How it could stand mightily as the forceful waters pushed it's way by.
And I had to question if I was as these sharp blades of grass standing firm and valiant amongst my predicaments. Or if I was as the weightless formation of bubbles, hiding timidly behind a bolder with trepidation of what was past and what's to come.
I stepped aside from the accommodating stream and diverted my attention to a tree producing an unusual and unknown fruit (to myself). Underneath the cool shade of the tree laid numerous pieces of its great bounty. Varied from large, beautiful, golden yet hollow. To those the deepest mahogany, shrunken and exposing it's hollowed entirety.With two or three more twirls beneath the branches I found one at it's peak. One full of weight and life.
Hovering above in the outstretched branches remained the last few of the season. Young and underdeveloped, enclosed deep inside a protective shield. Much too delicate to face the world and air that we breathe.
And I thanked God.
I thanked God for I knew that it was He that is placing me on my onward path.
I know that it is He who is moving me from my underdeveloped frail state, shielded from the truth that is today.
I know that it is He who continues to guide me from my large hollowed shell of self.
Perhaps the metaphors of waterfalls and fruit do not convey with you. But God speaks to each of us in different manners. And for today, this was mine.
I received a longing to strive. An encouragement to prosper in the middle of a rushing world that's filled with dangers and disappointments. Reassurance not to fear the whirlwind that's past or yet to come. To prevail with a spirit full of life. Not one that's grand in the sight of the world, but one that's worth it's weight in gold once tested.
God provides encouragement to us all, if we can only listen.
Be it a Scripture or an ambiguous creek.
