My neighborhood has been joyfully quiet all day, the cool air full of the songbirds’ singing. A big fat wren sat on the bannisters this morning trying to teach his bird child to sing an aria but the little one could hardly mimic a little whistle compared to his daddy’s loud songs. His daddy leaned back, pushed his chest out, and sung his heart song. Amazing something so small can sing so loudly. Couldn’t help but laugh as the little one sitting on the sidewalk tried to sing. William Blake wrote, “He who should hurt the wren, shall never be beloved by men.”

I was looking forward to sunset this afternoon, anticipating a beautiful watercolor painting from Mother Nature’s brushes, but Father Sky kept the stage hidden by his cloud curtain sketches. He invited his cloud friends to watch him in the hidden pageant of sunset and Mother Nature frowned on how they were dressed. She picked up her palette and painted pink bow ties and aqua button down shirts on the clouds as they gathered in their grey sport coats to watch the sun set. Her brush strokes were soft but firm and shaded the clouds so prettily as the sun stepped briefly on the stage of golden light.

Mother Natures brushed shades of wildflower honey across the horizon as Father Sky took the arm of the sun and walked her regally down the pageant runway. Father Sky and the sun were dressed in matching sterling silver creations, Father Sky attired in a silver linen business suit with aqua pocket square, the sun dressed formally in a silver beaded gown gathered in the back with an aqua bow. The handsome couple pulled the daylight behind them as they walked down the horizon and turned off the day’s light as they kissed goodnight. Father Sky went to wake the third quarter moon, who had turned off his lights for the day, dressing in his black suit for the night pageant. The twinkling stars and Father Sky helped the dark moon to the pageant stage and the night formally began as the day ended.

I love this time of day with the magical light of twilight. It’s quiet and it’s peaceful and the neighborhood is getting sleepy as twilight rolls down the street cooling off the porches and silencing the earth. All the birds have gone to roost except the faithful crimson cardinals and their demure fawn brown mates flocking to the feeders as sunset begins. I hear a train whistle, breaking the silence of twilight, its lonely horn sounds echoing down the track. As it gets closer I hear the clickety-clack of the metal wheels hugging the steel tracks.

I’ve lived my whole life by train tracks, so used to hearing them sometimes I forget to listen to their wails and rumbling sounds. Sometimes I don’t even hear hear their loud horns. Love the way a train’s whistle sounds late at night, a magical night symphony. “I’ve always felt that distant train whistles heard in the dead of night are the universe’s way of letting us know the best days are neither ahead nor behind us…they’re happening right now, cradled in the palms of our hands,” Dave Matthes. I love that thought.

Never thought about the train and its tracks representing our journey of faith till tonight. I think a train is symbolic of our spiritual journey and the passage of our life. As we roll along the tracks our life unfolds. The train of our faith has a specific destination, chugging along and staying on course lead by the metal rails of God’s grace and guidance. We travel the path God chooses. As we grow and change, we have to be willing to overcome obstacles that block our path. We have to pray when our train journeys to a switch track, calling on God for help getting back on our predetermined track of faith. We can look to God’s words as the locomotive that fuels our heavenly destination.

We have to trust in God and roll down the rails straight to him, letting him choose our journey’s path. Life is a train ride. “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer,” Corrie Ten Boom. God is our engineer and heaven is our destination. God calls us to board his train and he helps us reach our heavenly destination. We have to stay on the tracks of our faith through prayer and Bible study, trusting in God to lay the rails to guide us on our journey to heaven.

“Life is a train that stops at no stations; you either jump abroad or stand on the platform and watch as it passes.” — Yasmina Khadra