thoughts on seeing and hearing

my little tent on a little patch of shale surrounded by relentless 
F O G 

Sometimes, you do not have to see something to know you've encountered something really special.

Several weeks ago, I was quietly sitting in the forest beside a wetland waiting for my shift to start (someone has to do it). It was a lovely warm afternoon, and the usual crew of marsh wrens, sparrows, and sassy kingfishers chirped and chattered their cheery approval. Suddenly, a curious amount of LOUD splashing cut through the gentle marsh sounds.

I stood and tried to identify where the ruckus was coming from, quickly realizing that the sound belonged to the little pond that lies just beyond the reach of the brackish salt marsh water. The whoosh of humongous wings cut through the air and combined with the frantic slap of feathers and feet against water. The squawk that followed - sounding like a mashup of a 14-year old boy's yell/velociraptor's roar - told me that a Great Blue Heron was involved in the commotion.

I waded through the tall grasses as quickly and quietly as I could, hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on, but all I could see through the tall reeds and cattails was more...reeds and cattails. The splashing and squawking continued until the wings stopped smacking water and started catching the air instead - the long, awkward flaps and even more awkward disapproving heron calls fading into the distance with the disgruntled bird (who I never saw). A few more splashes followed after the heron made its noisy-as-all-getout exit, making me wonder what kind of critter had caused our storky friend to flee in the first place.

Soon the peaceful chatter of the salt marsh resumed, and I found myself standing there totally disappointed. There I had stood just breaths away from some exciting encounter with nature, and a wall of reeds had kept me from seeing a single thing. I was BUMMED.

You do not have to see something to know that you've encountered something really special. 

The Lord spoke to me clearly and gently over the marsh's symphony.

I am one stubborn lady, but His words melted my disappointment in an instant and I started chewing on their meaning like a good handful of fresh green beans.


A few weeks later, I spent one night backpacking alone.

The entire hike to where I set up camp was shrouded in thick fog, and I mean THICK. I couldn't see more than 20 yards in front of me for the majority of the climb up to the ridge. All along the way, I couldn't stop thinking about the astonishing mountain views that the white misty curtain was surely cloaking from view. This time, the heron was replaced by mountains, and the reeds by dense fog. I found myself grinning at the steep topo lines on the map because even though I couldn't see one iota of any of them, I knew that Mt. Baker, Shuksan, Larrabee, and Sefrit were looming right before my eyes. His words tumbled back to the front of my brain as I perched on my tiny patch of shale eating dinner at 5,699 ft., feeling like I was in a snow globe full of milk.

You do not have to see something to know that you've encountered something really special. 

He was right again, of course. In the silence, I was overcome by just how incredible of a gift it was for me to sit at that height, totally exposed to the elements, warm and dry.

Suddenly, the fog itself became special. Perspective is a wild thing, y'all.

The fog continued for an whole entire second day. I woke up the first morning to no visibility, and deafening silence. The mist sang its own song as it skittered its way across the rain fly. The flutter of wings outside startled me, and opened my ears to another lesson.

A presence doesn't always have to be announced by a voice. 

On the second morning, I woke to light illuminating the opaque walls of my old tent. Startled by the amount of light, I shot straight up, tugged at the zipper door and tumbled out onto the shale in my sleeping bag -

to this.

for context, this is what was hiding behind my tent in the first picture

I immediately started laughing out loud, and couldn't quit. You would have too if you'd spent two days on a white canvas and woke in a Bob Ross painting!

Peaks in every direction were framed in by an astonishing blush of pinks, peaches, purples, and blues. All the glaciers on Mt. Shuksan and Baker sat quietly - expectant of the light they hadn't seen since nightfall. The layers of range like shark teeth to the East, the ominous gray Canadian cascades seeming gentler somehow as they waited in the North for the kiss of sunlight too.

The sights before me were so enormous, so powerful - that I found myself feeling like something was missing. I have been hiking for my whole life and never had this thought, but in my state of wonderment, I just couldn't believe that something so massive didn't make a single sound.

A presence doesn't always have to be announced by a voice. 

He was right again, of course.

How many times have I encountered the presence, power, and provision of God in my life and not recognized it as such because I have not seen it with my eyes? How many times have I metaphorically heard the Holy Spirit splashing and chose to be disappointed because I didn't see the Trinity at work?

Furthermore, how often have I been in the presence of the Maker of the Universe and not recognized Him because I was waiting to hear His voice?!


Friends,

We do not have to see Him to know we have encountered Him.
We do not have to hear Him to know that He is there.

The wings, and fog, the mountain ranges, and YOUR INTRICATE EXISTENCE shout that the great Designer is not limited by our finite human senses, but sometimes chooses to speak to us through them anyways.

The story of Gideon from the Bible is such a good example of that. Here, this man witnesses the power of God in some pretty crazy specific ways, and still asks God to prove Himself two additional times.

Gideon said to God, “If this is right, if you are using me to save Israel as you’ve said, then look: I’m placing a fleece of wool on the threshing floor. If dew is on the fleece only, but the floor is dry, then I know that you will use me to save Israel, as you said.” That’s what happened. When he got up early the next morning, he wrung out the fleece—enough dew to fill a bowl with water! Then Gideon said to God, “Don’t be impatient with me, but let me say one more thing. I want to try another time with the fleece. But this time let the fleece stay dry, while the dew drenches the ground.” God made it happen that very night. Only the fleece was dry while the ground was wet with dew.  Judges 6:36-40 MSG  

God didn't have to prove Himself to Gideon in a way that he could see, or hear, or smell, or taste. He could have just kicked Gideon in the behind and sent him into battle without further explanation. But He didn't do that. Because He is a good Father, and he is just that willing to show us how much He cares for our every need and has the best and wildest plans waiting for us.

We do not need to hear Him
We do not need to see Him

But He is forever always at work.

Grateful.


7 

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation. By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible. Hebrews 11:1-3 ESV

But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you;  or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you.  Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this?  In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind.             Job 12:7-10 ESV