There is this one lone fir tree on the top of the mountain. Weeks before we arrive in Colorado, I can feel the calming presence of that tree, perched against the backdrop of the blue sky. I see it only from the loft window, with the curtain whipping around in the breeze as if to say, ‘Look, I’m still here.’ That lone tree beckons me back into solitude and contemplative meditation. I thought of that tree when I read David Wagoner’s poem “Lost.”* One line in the poem conjures up that simple lone fir tree:

The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
 I have made this place around you. 
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.

How do we navigate a relationship with the God who allows us to come and go, to turn away and then come rushing back? Much of the spiritual life in America seems to be about seeking. We search for the church that fits our beliefs. We study the scripture to discover God’s wisdom for our own modern times. We dig our hands into the dirt to build a garden or put on an apron to serve food to a neighbor in need. All of our striving is noble and often fruitful.

And yet, sometimes, “The forest breathes. Listen.” Sometimes seeking misses the point. Sometimes it is more about stopping. Doing nothing. Which is scary. What prevents us from pausing to simply be? To surrender to God is to admit that we are not the only driver in this relationship with the Divine.

There are moments when either because we are tired or because we are wise, we cannot keep pushing. We simply stop and rest and trust that the God who created us out of the dust of the earth is also seeking us, wooing us. If God is the one in pursuit, might that calm us and allow us to sit back and soak in the stunning awesomeness of the trees, the streams, the grass, the flowers, the sunrise, or moonlit sky?

Wagoner ends his poem with this image:

You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you. 

Grace and Peace,
Carla

*As found in David Whyte’s book The House of Belonging.
The poem is copyright by David Wagoner, 1976.