“Come back to Jesus,” said the preacher man, to which I responded, “I never left. And why would you think that I had?” Is it because I’ve stretched my mind beyond religious din and traditional expectations more than once or twice? That I can sense God speaking in the wind through the trees?
“I'd rather be in the mountains thinking about God, then in church thinking about the mountains.” - Ace Kravhl
The preacher man’s comment, although made with good intentions, is a product of judgment and not the state of my heart or the condition of my soul.
Where-oh-where might I find my Creator, when it’s quiet enough that I might hear him speak? At times it is within four walls. Most often it’s while pondering the natural world. He guides and directs me still. Who is to say that he doesn’t?
“So I climbed, up and up and up. I went so high, tried to look at the sun straight on, and then fell and fell. God was there waiting for me, it turned out, exactly where I wasn’t looking for him.” - Peter Bebergal and Scott Korb, The Faith Between Us
*Photo Attribution: By John Spooner (flickr.com) [CC-BY-2.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
is a storyteller, and a transcript editor. She's also a Romans 8:28 kind of Jewish girl ...