Wandering in the wilderness, lost in the mists that shroud the forest.
The sounds of the forest are dampened into an eerie silence that descends into the uncertainty that lies in the soul of man. Through the wafts of whiteness our vision is hampered until we focus on our immediate surrounds.
Through the mists there are gossamer threads sprinkled with drops of condensation that reflect the barest glimmer of light, revealing all there is around us. Tiny little mirrors that magnify the very essence of God through His creation. Everywhere we look and touch a new reality is illuminated.
And each droplet shows the Holy Spirit at work; teacher, guide, advocate, comforter, revealer of truth. Each drop that gathers on our skin, washes over us in minute explosions of joy, prickling sensations over every exposed pore.
All for the purpose of bringing us to a deeper understanding of God and a more meaningful relationship with the Living Christ as revealed through the presence of the Holy Spirit.
And so, in the mists that gently caress the mountain slopes, I wander through the forest of my faith, and I listen when the wilderness whispers.