In the early morning hours of the day most of us are asleep. While we sleep there is still much going out there in the Great Sonoran Desert. The smelly javelinas are rooting, the sad eyed donkeys are roaming, and the cunning coyotes are hunting.
On a certain early morn this week a pair of owls were giving out their lonely hoots. They reminded me of a poem by Edward Richards:
A wise old owl sat on an oak,
The more he saw the less he spoke;
The less he spoke the more he heard;
Why aren’t we all like that wise old bird?
How is it that the owls have learned this lesson and most of us haven’t?
Listening to God,