Just before the sun climbs Hatchet Peak behind our house, songbirds announce the pending dawn and cows call their calves from grassy beds.
Such a chorus greets me each morning that I walk. It’s an hour unlike any other – cool, for one thing, not yet drenched in the greater San Joaquin’s triple-digit heat.
Campbell Creek meanders through the lower ranchland, past massive oaks and shady willows. Bullfrogs bay from their pond-side hideaways, and I imagine the unusual cacophony as a chorus of praise, wondering if God understands the language of His creation better than we do.
“Give thanks to the Lord,” trills the high-pitched voice of a red-winged blackbird.
“His love endures for ever,” drums a deep-throated bullfrog.
Could it be that we humans don’t take time to listen to the song of nature around us?
Could it be that we are missing out on creation’s ultimate worship music?
But what if you live in the city? What if you can’t walk where there is no traffic to clutter your eyes and ears and lungs? What if all you hear is the noise of people and their busy-ness?
Then find a place.
Find a place in the bedroom with the door closed and no sounds coming through. Find a place on the living room sofa while the kids are outside playing.
Go to the park, sit in the backyard in the shade, drive to the country in the evening after sunset, but wherever you go, quiet yourself and listen. And see if you can hear an anthem of praise, whether it is the voice of nature, the song of silence, or the simple offering of your own grateful heart.
Worship Him, and let His presence surround you.