The Tune of Truth

There's a quiet serenity hidden within a cold, autumnal morning.

Deep inside the frost or tucked behind a fallen red leaf, peace resides. As the chilly morning breeze swirls down the empty street, flipping leaves and rustling the dewy grass, it quietly hums the tune of tranquility. It softly curls around car tires and envelops the noiseless houses.

The same wind swirled through the streets of Rome. This same chilly breeze swept across oceans of water and of time. The same frosty wind that twisted through the ancient towns of China now twists down my sleepy neighborhood in Sacramento. The wind never ages. The wind never dies. It continues; twisting, curling, sweeping, ever swirling. And hidden behind it is a silent song.

There's a quiet serenity hidden within a cold, autumnal morning.

Deep inside those low, grey clouds or tucked behind a stranger's smile, peace resides. Trees ablaze with fiery yellows and red stand with arms outstretched; lifted towards the foggy sky. The breeze passes through the sieve of leaves, and quietly, the tree hums the tune of tranquility. It's roots pulse with the song of serenity.

Within the house, tensions rise. It's rough. Hard. Difficult.

Subtle undercurrents. Between-the-lines reading. Guessing. Twisting. Manipulating. Deep inside the walls, there is hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Brokenness. And at the same time, those walls sing the song of truth. Murmurs of honesty begin to rise. Tucked within the hearts and souls of the inhabitants is a yearning for honesty, for goodness, for truth. The cold breeze of reality curls through the house; chilling and painful, yet refreshing and healthy. It sweeps through the hallways, flipping over hypocrisy and uprooting deceiving duplicity. Humming the tune of truth.

There's a quiet serenity hidden within a cold, autumnal morning.

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." John 14:27