Meditation: The Unknown Discipline

During my lunch break on July 31st, I drove out to Percy Priest Lake. There is nice little park setting where people can get out and walk to the lake’s edge, feed the ducks and geese and enjoy the shade of some mature shade trees. I sat there for 45 minutes allowing my mind to fill with the sounds of the water; the feel of the breeze through the car windows; and the children squealing with delight. I began to simply dwell on a tree in the park. I noticed its height and strength. I examined the intricate detail of the bark. I recognized that the grass below its large branches was greener and more vibrant than that directly exposed to the sun. I was filled with the awe of my God. I began to understand that God’s power and beauty are veiled in his creation. With a few simple sights and sounds found in an insignificant park in middle Tennessee the God of the universe could overwhelm my mind. It reminds me of my children. When they were very young, but old enough to begin to respond to my loving communication, they would giggle and laugh at my face or a sound I’d make. I could get them into a hysterical frenzy of laughter. Without notice, however, their laughter would turn to tears. They were over-stimulated. A baby can take only so much visual stimulation before it grows overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed that day in the park. Just a few of the sights and sounds of my Father caused me to go from laughter and wonder to tears. I think I will visit that park more often. Meditation has been a missing discipline in my life; I never realized the potential for discovering God in more concrete way.