Coffee, Snowflakes, and Eternity

I'm standing here today on the beach overlooking Portage Lake.  The dining hall behind me is buzzing with energy as people sit at the tables to eat their breakfasts.  The weekend has went well so far, and after breakfast, we would have only one talk left before we all packed up to go home.

All of  that would come in due time.  But for now, I have my coffee, some snowflakes, and a serene stillness that surrounds me as my eyes scan the view of the frozen lake and hills that rest behind it.

You know that ringing in your ears you get when everything stops?  When everything is silent?  Yet there's still this noise?  I'm sure that there's some scientist or doctor that has a good take on the medical side of it.  They would say something about the internal workings on the ear drum such and such.  But I like to think of it differently.

Maybe it's God's way of reminding me that He's there.  It's funny how we search out the greatest things to find God in, signs plastered across the sky or some sort.  We go to church searching for "that feeling."  We seek out religious traditions and activities that seem to draw the emotional hair-raising-on-the-back-of-the-neck emotional experiences. 

I dunno...maybe I'm wacked up.  I guess, I just find that sometimes, it is the opposite of all that is when I find God.  It's when I'm quiet.  When I'm still.

It's when I stop trying to get His attention and just wait, enjoying the moment, taking the beauty around me.  When the only noise is the faint wind and the silence.  That silence.

I wonder if this is why the Bible records Jesus taking off into the middle of nowhere so ofthen.

But for now I'm satisfied as I stand here with a cup of coffee in my hands and snowflakes on my jacket, enjoying this little eternity.