My Drummer

Last weekend I went on an autumn walk around Walden Pond with my husband and our red-headed brother. We stumbled upon it, actually. And what a providential place to stumble upon on a crisp October afternoon.

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Thoreau wrote these words during his foray into these beautiful Concord woods:

"If a man does not deep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears..." (From Walden)

Thoreau wants us to be brave, courageous, self-reliant. To do what we feel is right. To rely on ourselves for understanding, wisdom and survival. To resist peer pressure. To be ourselves.

But, I've never been good at that whole self-reliance thing.

Yes, Thoreau, I DO march to a different drummer. But He is a drummer to whom I am completely abandoned to and totally reliant on. He is a drummer who loves me and takes care of me.  He is a kind, compassionate drummer; full of grace and mercy.

How I heard my drummer call as I rambled through those woods!

Listen.

Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad, let the sea resound, and all that is in it; let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them. Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy; they will sing before the Lord." (Psalm 96:11-13)

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world." (Psalm 19:1-4; Psalm 97:6)