One morning, I went for a walk in the woods, seeking solace from what I thought was the depressing work that was demanding my attention that day. As I looked around at the landscape, I saw the same type of dilemma that I was dealing with at work: the plants all seemed to be competing with one another, vines strangling trees as if to dominate them and stems stretching for a hint of sunlight. Everything was screaming, "me, me, me." Suddenly, it occurred to me to ask a pioneering question: 'God, what do you see?' I walked on silently for some time. Then, I was prompted to turn and look again at the landscape, and my eyes opened to a completely different scene: every leaf, every flower, and every blade of grass was individually singing, "I, I, I," in one grand chorus, beaming with a kind of beauty and light that seemed to originate within itself. Soul had identified its own likeness, for Soul knows only one song, and that song is good.
"Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father
in my name, he will give it you. . . . ask, and ye shall receive,
that your joy may be full"