Everything about that morning was unexpected.
First, it was cool. That summer had been one of the hottest, triple digits for days on end. So, by "cool," I mean it was a pleasant morning to take a stroll in a short-sleeved shirt.
Also, I was early. Unexpected. I often needed to hurry from the commuter rail station to my office. But not that morning. Morning was still dawning. The sun had yet to crest the buildings, the tall sides of the downtown canyon.
I was caught off guard by the birds.
Rounding a corner, I suddenly found myself serenaded. So, so unexpected. On my right was a small pocket park, and its trees were packed full of singing birds. Even though there was no melody, the collected sound of their birdsong was surprisingly harmonious. I stopped and just let it wash over me. For several long minutes, I was completely wrapped in those blended voices.
Many people, when asked to identify a place where they feel closer to God, will describe things like high mountains, majestic waterfalls, a peaceful stretch of ocean, or a moment of absolute silence in an ancient meeting place. But these "thin places" are individual. People often erect edifices to mark those places.
Jacob did that once, marked a place on the west side of the Jordan River. He set up a stone to memorialize his vision of a stairway to heaven. In this week’s Genesis passage, we learn he did it a second time, two decades later. This time, he marked the east side of the Jordan by naming it Peniel (“the face of God”). That was where he wrestled with God on his way back to the land God had promised him. Jacob did not expect either of those encounters. They were arranged by God, on God's timetable.
Few modern people claim to have encountered God, at least not up close and personal like Jacob did. In modern times, we tend to describe such encounters as "feeling closer" to God, or, as one friend suggested, "not as far from God as I usually am." However you want to describe it, that unexpected birdsong serenade was my thin place. I felt God was there, in that moment, sharing a portion of His creation with me. I was moved to do something I rarely do: I wrote a poem:
Sun still coming
Short-sleeve cool
Birdsong peals
Buildings ring
There is no stone to mark that spot of urban birdsong. Only the poem, and my memory of the experience, remain. It was transient, an unexpected moment in an unexpected place.
Many people make sometimes long, arduous journeys so they can visit some "thinny," a place where others have claimed an encounter with God. I mean no disrespect for their choices when I state that, for me, there is great value in waiting for God to make the arrangements. I wait for Him to choose the place of encounter—and the nature of that experience.
You never know in what unexpected place—and unexpected way—God may choose to meet you.
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PHOTO: by Steve Orr
Thanksgiving Square, a pocket park in downtown Dallas
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I hope you can join us on Zoom* or in Waco at Our Breakfast Place Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We're in at 8:00 and out at 9:00. And, for that hour, we have our own little thin place. We spend time in God's word and draw closer to Him.
Grandson disappointed I didn’t insert “something funny about birds” here.
Blessings,
Steve
*Zoom link (Zoom allows you to mute the camera and the microphone if you don’t wish to be seen or heard):
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/89947678414
SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK
Find them here:
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts/?y=17134&z=p&d=67
Print them from here:
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/wp-content/uploads/pdfs/Ax_Proper13.pdf
Genesis 32:22-31
Psalm 17:1-7, 15
Isaiah 55:1-5
Psalm 145:8-9, 14-21
Romans 9:1-5
Matthew 14:13-21
Proper 13 (18) (August 2, 2026)
