So this time last week Mary and I were basking in the quiet of a few days on the southern California coast. The vistas were accented by unfamiliar but beautiful flora and fauna and the only “noise” normally was that of the restless yet calming cadence of the surf just “over there.” Our last view was a sun rise over Laguna Beach as we left on Sunday morning.

While there, among numerous memorable times, one sweet moment occurred as we walked by a bird of paradise planting and heard, then saw, a hummingbird. I for one did not know they sing as they fly and hoover. It was a great moment!

But even the sublime cannot long tarry in our world of responsibilities and callings. So, . . . we returned home. And while it is always true that “there is no place like home,” we were reminded one evening this week why Winter Park and this world “is not our home” in an ultimate sense. We heard a different bird outside our back door late in the evening. Going onto the back porch we saw the lights of a hoovering police helicopter, with its search light trained on a spot far too close too close by.  Then to our surprise and dismay a voice came from the helicopter: “Jesse [unsure of the last name], 1625 Orange Avenue, come out with your hands up.”

This is not “noise” to sleep by! Fortunately, a few minutes later as the helicopter slowly moved away, the same voice said, “We apologize for any fear. Our suspect has been apprehended.” As reassuring as this pronouncement might have been, these sounds remind us that we who walk among noise live in a broken world that desperately needs the redemptive grace of our loving Savior.

Come Lord Jesus, save us from such noise.

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