Manna Meditations, Day 27
I drive out to a solitary place, where the forest gives way to open fields.
When I park the car at an overlook, the only sound is the wind tearing around the car, trying to find a way into my little shell of warm air.
I have my big camera with me, but for some reason it feels right today to leave it on the seat beside me… To trust that the Manna need not be caught with a telephoto lens. That it’s right within arm’s reach.
So I roll down the window and point my iPhone at the horizon instead. There’s nothing here but a lone tree lingering against the blue. Nothing but bare ground and open sky.
So I wait.
And I wait.
I wait until the Light and Presence begins to fill the car … until a cloud or two floats into the frame, soft-bodied and slow.
The clouds move close to the tree, until they look almost within arm’s length of those limbs.
And then the clouds wait, too.
I snap a picture, realizing as I do so that I am here to remind you of just one thing:
Ah, friend … You are not alone.