I sat among the trees once. And a wind was blowing. Quite a strong wind; I could hear it in the trees – rushing, rushing. A lovely sound, soothing to my ears. I stopped what I was writing and began to listen. I remembered that Jesus said that the Holy Spirit was like the wind. You could hear it; see its effect. But you couldn’t see the wind itself. You couldn’t see where it was coming from, nor going to. And I wondered, “Are you showing me something about your Spirit, Lord?” So I sat, and I listened, and I watched. They were big, old trees where I sat. Tall they were, in an ancient wood, well-branched, shapely. Beech, grey bark against the clear blue of the sky. And leaves: they were leaves that knew the wind; leaves that let the wind know them. They looked, like beach leaves look in a wind: full of life – and with a certain beauty all their own. I watched the great crowns of those great trees. I watched the branches sway and the ...
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