The Hunt

Walking through the deep woods one warm breezy spring day,
I was searching among the fallen oaks and dry leaves for those
elusive morels, so hard to spot, yet so delicious cooked up.
As I slowed myself down, as one must do to be successful
in morel hunting, I took a deep breath and cleared my mind
of the usually clutter. My eyes scanned the woods floor, looking
hard, trying not to miss that distinct shape of the grey morel.
 
I thought about my Lord, and how long it had been since I had
really been alone with Him. How long since I told him about my
sins and how they need forgiven. About how wretched I am and how I need a savior, over and over again.

Just at that moment, from the corner of my eye, was a smallish black snake, who had stopped just a few feet away. He was a brave one, a bit aggressive but probably just scared. I reached out my walking stick to slide it under his body and lift him up to get a better look. But he had other plans, shaking his little tail at me, as if to make me think he might be a dangerous rattler.

He made me think about Satan, that serpent of old, that evil one
who stealthily follows me along in life, hoping I'll slip up, waiting for that opportunity to strike.

But I gave up on the old blacksnake, and let him go along his way.
And my thoughts returned to my Lord. Sometimes looking for the
morel is like trying to find Him through all of life's distractions. As all the leaves and sticks on the woods floor can seem to disguise the morel, so can the stress, confusion, business, hide the face of Jesus.

But when I slow down and relax, look carefully, tuning out the
noise of the world, I can begin to see what I didn't see before.
I see the new shoots of the mayflower poking up through the
leaves. I see the brand new yellow wildflower cluster, making
a great picture against the stump of the large oak.

And just when I found that great peace that passes understanding,
and all is made dim except my relationship with Christ, my
eyes clear and open, and my heart receives that touch I have longed for.

As I bask in that glow that Jesus gives me when we connect,
I spy nestled between the brown leaves, a little gray morel.
It is freshly sprung from the earth, ready to be picked, untouched
by other wildlife, unspoiled.

I carefully cut it from it's stem and place it in my bag, thinking
how it will taste later after dousing it in butter and cooking it up.
I thank Jesus that I know Him and that He provides me with
everything that I need in life, protects me from the harm
and opens my eyes to really see.