During the Land Navigation portion of my Phase I Special Forces training, I walked in circles on top of a hill searching for an elusive white metal stake protruding two feet above the earth. The surrounding pine trees made it even darker than what I had expected.
Based on my usually accurate calculations with the compass and protractor, along with the distinct terrain features, I knew I was in the correct spot. But after several precious minutes ticking away and no metal stake in sight, I was becoming increasingly frustrated.
I continued to trudge along the damp forest ground, layered with twigs, pine needles, and autumn-colored leaves, picking up the pace in an elevated state of mind. Then I stopped. I released the straps attached to the sixty pound rucksack and let it plop to my feet. Looking around, I squatted down and leaned against a large tree.
Despite the temperature being in the low fifties, I tilted my patrol cap back and wiped sweat from my brow. I reached for my canteen and took a swig of iodine-laced water, allowing the droplets run down my chin. It was peaceful and calm. The tree branches and limbs protruded skyward in irregular forms.
This current view before me was a “jaw-dropping” exhilaration experience, and yet, at the same time, very silent. The coal-colored sky provided the perfect backdrop for an inspiring array of glittering lights that sparkled like diamonds across the horizon. Some stood out with more brilliance than others but all seemed to be speaking the same universal language. The view was endless, eternal; expanding as far as the eye could follow. The constellation of stars struck me as pure, intangible, and idyllic. I felt simply like a small mortal speck in the mass cosmos.
Although this rare instant to ponder was before me, it was, however, neither the first nor the only time that I witnessed the heavens broadly proclaiming God’s craftsmanship. Quite often, I have noticed when the skies spoke to me without a sound or word; that moment when a voice is never heard. Yet, I heard, felt, and understood its message, one that has gone, and continues to go throughout the earth. It is a time when the wind blows wherever it wants and just as we can hear it without being able to determine where it is going, so it is with the Spirit of God.
I still had a task at hand however and time was slipping away. Still confident about being in the right vicinity, I prayed. If I did not find this particular metal stake, I would not be able to record the eight digit coordinates for my next location. I would fail to achieve one of the requirements. When I prayed, I used the words from Proverbs chapter three, verses five and six, about trust.
When I had finished praying, which included heartfelt thanks for the exhilarating sky, I noticed something that I had not noticed previously. Amongst the silhouetted limbs curving against the lit sky, I spotted one pointing straight and rigid. Fixing my eyes on this peculiar site, I crawled towards it and found to my delight, the metal post containing the key data I needed to continue.
I jotted down the information I needed, set new coordinates, stood up, looked skyward, and thanked God for allowing me to see things from his perspective. When I glanced back down at my feet, the metal post was nearly invisible from my five foot ten-inch view above it. I grabbed my gear and scurried down the hill towards my next destination with a renewed sense of urgency and confidence at the same time.
Based on my usually accurate calculations with the compass and protractor, along with the distinct terrain features, I knew I was in the correct spot. But after several precious minutes ticking away and no metal stake in sight, I was becoming increasingly frustrated.
I continued to trudge along the damp forest ground, layered with twigs, pine needles, and autumn-colored leaves, picking up the pace in an elevated state of mind. Then I stopped. I released the straps attached to the sixty pound rucksack and let it plop to my feet. Looking around, I squatted down and leaned against a large tree.
Despite the temperature being in the low fifties, I tilted my patrol cap back and wiped sweat from my brow. I reached for my canteen and took a swig of iodine-laced water, allowing the droplets run down my chin. It was peaceful and calm. The tree branches and limbs protruded skyward in irregular forms.
This current view before me was a “jaw-dropping” exhilaration experience, and yet, at the same time, very silent. The coal-colored sky provided the perfect backdrop for an inspiring array of glittering lights that sparkled like diamonds across the horizon. Some stood out with more brilliance than others but all seemed to be speaking the same universal language. The view was endless, eternal; expanding as far as the eye could follow. The constellation of stars struck me as pure, intangible, and idyllic. I felt simply like a small mortal speck in the mass cosmos.
Although this rare instant to ponder was before me, it was, however, neither the first nor the only time that I witnessed the heavens broadly proclaiming God’s craftsmanship. Quite often, I have noticed when the skies spoke to me without a sound or word; that moment when a voice is never heard. Yet, I heard, felt, and understood its message, one that has gone, and continues to go throughout the earth. It is a time when the wind blows wherever it wants and just as we can hear it without being able to determine where it is going, so it is with the Spirit of God.
I still had a task at hand however and time was slipping away. Still confident about being in the right vicinity, I prayed. If I did not find this particular metal stake, I would not be able to record the eight digit coordinates for my next location. I would fail to achieve one of the requirements. When I prayed, I used the words from Proverbs chapter three, verses five and six, about trust.
When I had finished praying, which included heartfelt thanks for the exhilarating sky, I noticed something that I had not noticed previously. Amongst the silhouetted limbs curving against the lit sky, I spotted one pointing straight and rigid. Fixing my eyes on this peculiar site, I crawled towards it and found to my delight, the metal post containing the key data I needed to continue.
I jotted down the information I needed, set new coordinates, stood up, looked skyward, and thanked God for allowing me to see things from his perspective. When I glanced back down at my feet, the metal post was nearly invisible from my five foot ten-inch view above it. I grabbed my gear and scurried down the hill towards my next destination with a renewed sense of urgency and confidence at the same time.