Here, I See You
The story of a moment with a woodpecker, and God
I knew I was cutting it close. The woods grew dim and the trees swayed in a strong spring wind.
But I wanted to see it—the trail I’d cut in.
A two-and-a-half-mile singletrack greenway stretches the contours of our neighbourhood and into the woods and dumps hikers, bikers, and equestrians out in a gravel parking lot.
We like to keep the section behind our house maintained. So, I cut in a new section along the creek that led around a great muddy washout. I rode my mountain bike to the new section of trail and stopped to take in the dusky woods. And that’s when I heard him.
Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.
The unmistakable sound echoed in the empty woods. Just beyond the next turn stood a giant sycamore. It was three trees in one; a cluster lining the creek. I could see their tops, 90 feet or more above the forest floor. A magnificent Pileated woodpecker perched and pecked the deadened sycamore tops as I watched from below. Back and forth he skirted the tops of the far-right trunk and then rested. Still and grand.
Then, in his pause, he leaned back, turned his head, and let go.
But he did not spread his wings. He performed a free-dive through the quiet air. He fell gracefully 15 feet, with his broad chest facing me. Just before impact with the adjacent sycamore, he fanned out his wings and magically turned upright, claws in trunk.
I shouted at the sight—a hallelujah to the God who saw his bird dip and bob in flight, feathering the treetops with silent grace.
Every moment of every day fills up with bounty; beauties we do not see because we do not take the time.
In that moment, I thought of Job, how he questioned God. How God responded, with stories of unseen wonders, untouched mysteries, uncharted wisdom. Stories not meant to shame, but to remind Job that his transcendence remains unrivalled. And yet in his wisdom, he cares for the silly ostrich and the delights in the chaos of the leviathan. He sees the Pileated woodpecker, alone in the dimming woods, and shouts his own hallelujah.
I was thankful to have taken the time that day—time to see. It reminded me that the days possess calamity and wonder, both come under God’s purview. But what he is most concerned about in both is whether or not I see him.
The Fingerprints of God
To see God does not require our physical eyes. Though nature does help us in this with its glory. The invisible qualities of God show in the beauty of natural wonder, but these qualities come more profoundly to us when we contemplate their meaning. A lone woodpecker is beautiful. But what is the meaning of the lone woodpecker performing hidden acts of glory?
If God created the world, then his qualities rest like fingerprints all over it. His fingerprints tell us who he is just like ours do. They tell us that he is there, just like ours would if taken by an inspector at a crime scene. But the fingerprint is only a door to the meaning of the presence.
Why did God create a bird so wonderfully adorned for no one to see?
Why do sycamore’s grow next to water?
Why blow the wind through an empty wood? Why take the time to create this mysterious effect in a dusky forest?
Answer? To remind us that he is near even when it seems like he is not. To remind us that his wisdom places him above all. He is not the god of thunder but the God who created the thunder.
We cannot understand God’s closeness (immanence) without realizing the meaning of his distance (transcendence).
The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. And, I am beginning to understand.
I Have Tried
Several different approaches to newsletter formats that I thought you might find valuable. What do you like best?
My aim is to enrich your life, somehow, through the writing of my blog, newsletters, books and podcasts. There’s plenty of voices out there, so I’m grateful beyond words that you’ve stuck with me. But I want to bring value and grace into your life.
So, I’d like to hear from you. If you have a moment, I’d be honoured for your input on the questions below. You can just email me your responses:
What most speaks to you that I send out? Short story-driven reflection, like the one above? Or, digest style posts, with links and quick commentary, book recommendations, and so on?
How often do you like hearing from me? Monthly, weekly, multiple times a week?
What is your favourite form of content that I produce: original writing, fiction, podcast, digest-style newsletters?
Thank you for your responses in advance. It means the world to me.
The Wisdom of Transcendence
“Where is the way to the dwelling of light?
And darkness, where is its place,
That you may take it to its territory
And that you may discern the paths to its home?
The Wisdom of Immanence
“Is it by your understanding that the hawk soars,
Stretching his wings toward the south?
Tim, I admire and enjoy all of your work. I love stories like the one above, The Saturday Stoke-especially the voices! Because I admire your work, I appreciate your recommendations and other informative posts.