There’s a gorgeous little lake down the hill from my new abode in northwestern Washington state.

Half a mile steeply downhill to the park, another half mile to the lake, then two and two thirds miles around, and another mile back home. A good workout.

On the north side of the lake are basketball courts, a football field, and baseball field and many picnicking areas.

But the rest of the park? Quintessential rain forest.

The trail is well-groomed and wide enough to accommodate joggers, three abreast, and a couple of walkers, maybe even a leashed dog.

At one point, the ground rises on either side of the trail, muffling the shouts and laughter of the picnickers across the lake. The cedars loom, tall and lean, like old deacons looking down at me and admonishing, “Hush, you’re in God’s Cathedral.”

The quiet majesty of the cedars puts me in a mind to pray.

And I thought: I wish there was a place at church like this cathedral of cedars.

Hushed, still, beautiful, conducive to reflection and repentance.

In the stillness of the cedars I can hear myself think.

Better yet, I can hear God’s reminders to me from the words I’ve just read in the Bible, or a sermon from last Sunday, or the whispered request from a friend, “Remember to pray for me.”

It’s easier to do these things in such a place of quiet.

Even when there are no cedars available, there must be such a quiet place for all believers.

I hope there is.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.

He leads me beside the still waters, He restores my soul.” (Psalm 23:1-3 NIV Bible)