An old man looked out of his big
picture window at the beautiful snowcapped Western mountains
behind the rolling timbered hills, where he knew the wild animal
trails he used to walk. He had often visited the hidden lakes,
where moose and deer and beautiful wild foxes and other animals
would come in the evening shadows to drink.Just now, he is no longer the old
man with his eyes closed, sitting in the big chair, but a young
man, sitting by his campfire. The lazy smoke is drifting toward a
loon on the lake crying out: “Who are you? Who? Who? Who are you
coming to God’s peaceful place?” The ducks are landing on the lake
with their little ones safe in night’s darker blanket.The loon is still calling, the
ducks are still landing but the old man has gone. Where is the old
man? He was just sitting in the old chair and quietly, he
whispered a little prayer: “Please God, grant me my youth to go
again where the little lakes in evening shadows wait, not just for
the wild animals to drink or the loons to call, but let me sit by
my little fire and bow my head to thank You while you light the
heaven’s stars.” The old man waits and waits, but the loon is
still calling, and where is the old man?Well,
right now, he is right where you are going and you might get there
a lot sooner than he did, and you might also say a little prayer
like his, if you come to know the Creator like he has.
