God Speaks in Wild Places

One of the recurring themes throughout Soul Weathered is wilderness.

The cover itself shows a man walking a trail into the fading light.

And honestly, that image represents far more than hiking to me.

It represents space.

Silence.

Invitation.

The kind of places where a man can finally hear again.

For the past 25 years, I’ve led men into wilderness settings through ministry.

Mountains. Streams. Trails. Campfires. Remote places where the noise of life quiets down long enough for something deeper to surface.

And over those years, I’ve watched something happen again and again.

Men hear God.

Not because we engineered some emotional experience.

Not because we had perfect teaching.

And honestly, not because of us at all.

What we really did was simple:

We made space.

We set the table.

We created an invitation.

Since those early years, I’ve watched hundreds of ministries and retreats begin offering similar experiences for men and women.

And I understand why.

Because something happens when people step outside the noise, the pressure, the schedules, and the constant stimulation of modern life.

Their hearts begin to wake up.

And creation itself seems to participate in that awakening.

Scripture says that creation is groaning and longing for redemption (Romans 8:19–22).

And honestly, I think if you sit quietly in the wilderness long enough… you can almost hear it.

The wind through the trees. The movement of water over stone. The sound of birds before sunrise. The silence between mountain ridges.

It all feels alive.

Like creation itself is singing something ancient and holy.

And somewhere inside us, something responds.

I’ve watched hard men soften beside a fire.

I’ve watched exhausted men finally breathe deeply again.

I’ve watched men hear direction, conviction, healing, purpose, and clarity in places where there were no distractions left to hide behind.

Not because the wilderness saves us.

But because the wilderness creates space for us to notice the God who has been speaking all along.

And the truth is—you don’t have to climb a mountain in Colorado to experience that.

Sometimes it’s sitting quietly on a back porch overlooking a lake.

Sometimes it’s a trail behind your house.

Sometimes it’s a weekend away with your family where you finally slow down enough to pay attention.

The point is not the location.

The point is making space.

Because God speaks.

He always has.

The question is whether we’ve made room to hear Him.

And maybe one of the greatest losses in our modern lives is that we rarely allow ourselves enough silence, enough stillness, or enough wonder to truly listen.

We fill every empty space.

Phones.Schedules.Noise.Entertainment.Constant motion.

And then we wonder why we struggle to hear God.

But out in the wild, something changes.

The pace slows.

The soul opens.

And creation itself seems to whisper:

“Pay attention.”

That’s why wilderness has mattered so much in my own life.

Not because it’s trendy.

Not because it’s extreme.

But because out there, I remember who I am.

And I remember who God is.

So let me ask you something:

Where have you created space in your life to actually hear God?

Not rush past Him.

Not squeeze Him between appointments.

But truly listen?

Because the table has already been set.

Creation is already singing.

And maybe God is waiting for you in a quieter place than you expected.