Today logic class was so boring. I was falling asleep, but I laughed when my professor's marker kept squeaking loudly and he was making jokes about it. He said, "It sounds like a seagull. I didn't know we were in the ocean." Immediately I heard from memory the sounds of the beach at Padre Island. It sounded like heaven to me, especially compared to the dead silence in the classroom when the professor wasn't talking. I could almost feel the wind and the sand and taste the salty breeze. I could almost see the glorious sight ingrained in my mind from my walk across the shore: shining sand, crashing blue waves on the left, and the Texas sun gleaming in the sky. Beauty. You can't see that and not know that God exists.
But I was sitting in a stale, silent classroom with white walls, gray desks and chairs, blinds over the only window, and a classroom full of tired, bored people I do not know. Yes, the seagulls in my head sounded like heaven. God made us to live in nature. He made it to comfort us, to show us His beauty, to speak to us, to bless us. He gave us nature because He loves us. So why do we build these white walls around us and shut it out? It's like what we tend to do spiritually, what the world does. Run from God, shut him out, block out His voice. And then slowly our soul wilts away. We put up wall after wall and then God seems so far away we start to forget He's even there.
We get comfy in our little room. We never want to be outside where the weather can be uncomfortable and unpredictable. We'll just stay safe inside. Oh, but I want life.
No comments:
Post a Comment