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Archive for the ‘Nature/Creation’ Category

Are there things in nature that remind you of your childhood?

There are many for me.

Just yesterday the Wonderdog and I took a meander (because that is the speed of this canine buddy of mine of late) in the wooded pathways near our home. The sun was warm and life-giving to my soul, making the speed of the walk redundant, for a slower walk meant more time under the sun, more bird’s songs, more fresh air to fill the lungs.

It is a common occurrence that, when I am out in nature something will remind me of my childhood.

The first reminder of childhood made me smile, wide enough that the person walking towards me, I am certain, thought I was smiling at them. Buttercups. Plentiful and petite, but bright and moving together like waves. Do you like butter? I could hear the voices of the past ask.

Another visual that had me reminiscing were the sun dapples, through a treed area along a stream. Quite truly sun dapples might be the most dreamy of all that nature possesses. I saw them yesterday and immediately saw them again, many years before along a brook while hearing stories of childhood fishing from my dad.

Yet another were the berries on the bushes, from flower to ripened berry. Though these were (I believe) salmon berries, my mind saw raspberries on the vine, reminding me of sunny days with my maternal grandmother, picking berries to fill a bowl, then returning to her home where she whipped up the most delicious pie I ever remember eating.

Finally were the roses. Though planned and purchased by a landscaper and not the wild variety that they remind me of, their scent was just as I remembered. It is truly where ‘rose-scented’ perfume originated. And I was inhaling their scent at my childhood home.

Things in nature so easily bring memories of the past to the surface, for they are always there. These are the warm and fuzzy reminders of good memories.

I love that the Bible also speaks of the value of memories, or remembering.

“So I will always remind you of these things, even though you know them and are firmly established in the truth you now have. I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body, because I know that I will soon put it aside, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. And I will make every effort to see that after my departure you will always be able to remember these things.” 2 Peter 1:12-15

Peter is obviously intent on leaving a letter to those who receive his letter, at the time as well as in the future, focusing on the promise of reminders. These promised reminders of the teachings of Christ, the redemption provided, the responsibilities as a follower of Him. These reminders that the Good News would continue after he departed (this life).

What are our reminders? Perhaps they are in the rituals of Christian life, such as prayer, worship, reading of the Word. Perhaps they are in nature, in the guarantee of the sun’s rise, the phases of the moon, the changing of seasons … buttercups moving in the breeze on a sunny, warm day.

I love how Charles Swindoll spoke of this:

“Allow the things familiar to point you to things essential.”

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As we walked along the forest trail it wasn’t the heights of the trees around me, not the brook noisily flowing past, but the moss growing on the trees that captured my attention.

Lush, soft, growing in varying amounts on every tree and stump. It drew one’s eyes to it simply because the rest of the forest, in early spring, was still in it’s winter slumber. Only the emerald green of the moss dotted the landscape with colorful life.

Moss does not harm trees, unless the weight of it, saturated with rainwater grows to the point that the stability of branches is in question. It just simply lives and grows on them, adding mystical appearance.

Moss growing on a tree is an example of commensalism it gets a place to live and grow and the tree neither benefits nor is harmed. Basically, moss is simply a squatter on the tree.

At least that how science would define the relationship.

But, as I walked amid the moss covered forest trees, I saw things differently.

That rich, life-filled moss drew my eyes to the tree that, otherwise, would have blended into the forest of trees. It stuck out, brought joy, delight in the showy example of living brightly in a dark and shady place.

Though the tree is not harmed or benefitted from the moss growing there, I was indeed benefitted.

Sometimes, as a follower of Christ, as one who lives and desires to be light in the dark, be living water amid the murky depths in our world …

it can feel as though we are like moss on a tree …

growing and living,

but never having an impact on our host (the world).

It can seem, perhaps, that we are so busy with our own living, that we don’t bring Jesus to those around us.

As though, like the moss on the tree, we are simply living our life, without any impact for Christ on our surroundings.

Psalm 34:5, a Psalm of David, tells us:

“Those who look to Him are radiant with joy;
their faces shall never be ashamed.”

We, who are followers of Christ, have looked on his Crucified self … sacrificed for us, for the world. But we have not only looked, we have accepted that his sacrifice was for our own good. That “he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). And in seeing the reality of the purpose of his crucifixion, we reflect, or radiate joy that is found only in Him.

This joy that we radiate is not only seen by God, or by his followers, it is also seen by those around us. It is seen by those walking though along beside us,

standing out like moss on the trees in a forest in early spring.

Like that moss, we can have an impact (if we live as followers, growing from the word as our nourishment). Though we are busy we still bring something to the forest in which we live …

we bring beauty

Isaiah 33:17 tells us,

Your eyes will see the King in His beauty;
They will behold a far-distant land.

We reflect this beauty of the King and He in us will allow others to imagine life and eternity with HIm.

All we have to do is bring beauty to our dark and murky world.

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There is simply nothing better, more delightful than when someone lets you know that they are or have been thinking of you. That declaration can keep one going for days and days. There is something almost mystic about it. Possibly the significance of such a statement is because we did nothing to deserve another’s attention. It just happened … as if the stars fell into place, as if God himself whispered your name into the heart of another.

The older I get, the more such happenings I have been the recipient of, the more I am encouraged to do the same … send a note, a card, an email, a text … whatever it takes to communicate that one’s name has been mysteriously on my heart, in my mind and I wanted them to know.

A number of days ago I was feeling in the dumps (as we all do at times … such is part of our human condition). Then I remembered a photo I had taken quickly, but never looked at afterwards. I scrolled through my photos and located the image I remembered being wowed at … the sun was rising from behind the mountains and a beam of light was shining through the clouds. That image had brought a smile when I saw it … that morning, but also this grey day (inside and out).

I remember that day because I remember smiling, then speaking out loud, “thanks God.”

Moments of natural beauty, for me, are like whispers of God, saying,

I am thinking of you

You are on my mind

I am here with you

They are manna from heaven that satiates the hunger pains in my soul.

My phone is full of such photos. Their quality is not great, but they are like the stones that the Israelite tribes gathered from the middle of the Jordan as they passed through the river (Joshua 4:1-7). They carried them to the bank on the other side, leaving them as a reminder to future generations of God’s faithfulness … that God was thinking of them.

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Harrison Lake

There we were, sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake, “this lake is about 60km long and over 900 feet deep (gotta love the normalcy of Canadian mixing and matching of metric and imperial systems in one sentence).”

That’s a big lake.

And. I. felt. so. small.

and it felt so good.

It was like a correction, a righting of a wrong. For, in the vastness of our physical world, I am indeed small … insignificant.

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—

    the moon and the stars you set in place—

what are mere mortals that you should think about them,

    human beings that you should care for them?

Psalm 8:3-4

I do not just not size up in my physical world, but also in the spiritual world as well. My God is so big (and all of us who grew up going to Sunday School are singing the words, “so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing my God can not do”). I am so small.

It is good to be reminded of the space I occupy versus the space available. The relative insignificance of me … the great significance of the creator of this world, of me.

Then to remember that he, who is great, sacrificed his best for me. So that I would be his, eternally his. Not because of something I … who am so small … accomplished, but because of what Christ accomplished on my behalf.

O Lord my God,
When I in awesome wonder
Consider all
The works Thy Hand hath made …

Then sings my soul,
My Savior God, to Thee,
How great Thou art!

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The sun is pouring in … bright and warm yet it is still over an hour before my morning alarm.

What a welcomed start to the day.

I sit here and a song plays through my head,

The sun’ll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There’ll be sun!

It is a song that my mind and memory go to … once the clouds have moved apart to remind me that the sun does still indeed exist.

I wish the song would play when it’s still dark and grey and …

It’s been dark and grey here, in the Pacific Northwest. June can be that way here. It is as if nature is giving us that last reminder before July to not complain about the heat. To take joy in the cool, in the pause before the drying comes.

We need these bright and sunny dawns … even if they are soon followed by low cloud cover that blocks the sun’s existence. We need to remember that it is always darkest before dawn.

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It was a most wonderful … wonder-filled way to awaken on a Sunday morning, a number of years back.

SNOW

The winter wonderland outside my windows brightened the sky, every tree touched by it’s blanket.

Though I still struggle referring to a foot of snow as a snowstorm, I have adapted fully to how so little snow can change the plans of a day (thought it is always more wonder-filled when that day is a school day).

Our plans for this Sabbath were unique to begin with.

A 4am hockey game lured me from my bed … at 6am (obviously I am not a true Canadian hockey fan).

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Hubby had this Sunday off, and our plans had been to attend the church our eldest attends.

But …

the snow …

it was so …

so …

alluring …altering.

As fully adjusted Easterners who have become Westerners, we thought it might be best to not leave the safety of our warm home, and warm pajamas.

It drew us to our cozy chairs, with steaming drinks, big quilts, and highlights of the game. A lazy, Sabbath … a day of rest.

Amen

“All day our eyes could find no resting place.
Over a flood of snow sight came back
Empty to the mind. The sun
In a shutter of clouds, light
Staggered down the fall of snow.
All circling surfaces of earth were white.
No shape or shadow moved the flight
Of winter birds. Snow held earth in silence.
We could pick no birdsong from the wind.”
Wendell Berry

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I saw it, knew it was happening for real, just last week as I was driving home in the early evening.

Summer is fading.

Of course it has been fading since it’s first day in June, but now it is not just the lessening of evening light, but also how the leaves on the trees are looking tired, spent of their life … the sky looks like it’s deep summer blue is fading in the sun … the summer flowers slowing in their budding.

My heart feels heavy as I see these annual changes, heralding the end of summer, the beginning of autumn. I do so love autumn, with it’s cool nights and warm days, it’s colored trees and harvest moon. I love the celebrations in our family of birthdays and anniversaries. I love the renewal of schedules, the opportunities of re-starts and the new experiences to come for those I love.

Yet … my heart feels heavy …

It’s the light, the reduction of light that makes me feel the seasons change … just like I feel them (in a more positive ‘light’) when winter is being traded for spring and the light is increasing, winning the hearts of all who it touches. This is the reality when one is solar powered … and aren’t we all solar powered?

“Let there be light”

The first words of God that are recorded, give us insight into the importance of light, as it was also the first thing God created.

This light is not just the light of the skies, but also the light of the Holy Spirit, living within us. When we say yes to Christ, God gives the command to “let there be light” in our sin-darkened souls, and we illuminate his light to the world.

That is not a light that dims … no matter the season.

“May it be a light to you in dark places,
when all other lights go out.” 
 J.R.R. Tolkien

“The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.”

John 1:5

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I caught a glimpse of Mt. Baker the other day, as I was driving. Actually it was pretty hard to miss, as it seemed so grand, so close.

Mt. Baker is my ever changing constant on my drive to work, my walk around my neighbourhood, any place that takes me East or South of where I live. Depending on the weather, the season, the cloud cover or so many other variables, it is never the same, from one day to the next.

Yet it is always there, even when my view is obstructed. It is an ever-changing constant.

Ever-changing constant …

a bit like an oxymoron, yet that is what describes Baker, it is also what describes the world we live in, from ecosystems to world events to the very breathing of every living thing.

We, as humans have been tasked with the job of caring for our world and everything in it. That is an enormous task … one that we have frequently failed miserably at achieving.

As I walked down a new trail with the Wonderdog yesterday, I was profoundly struck with thankfulness for all that was around me. The trees bending with the breeze, and shading my path. The flowers and plants that add color, variety. Speaking of colors, the shades and varieties of the color green in the leaves of the trees, shrubs, the grass and smaller plants was amazing. Then we paused as I heard water running through a brook beyond my sight. The feel of breeze on my damp brow. The clear blue sky.

So much to be thankful for!

This morning, while enjoying this walk, I thought how I would struggle to be as thankful in January, when the downpours are a constant. The trees would have no leaves, the ground would be saturated soil, the sky grey with low clouds.

Ever-changing constant.

We watch or listen to the news in our little corner, or around the globe. People, creatures our very earth suffering. This is our father’s world … and it can seem as though we are destroying it, destroying each other.

At lunch the other day we sat and heard refuge stories, from a successful young couple who were so young when they fled with their families to a safe place that their stories are constructed, not from what they remember but from what they have been told.

Ever-changing constant.

We are still responsible for our world, and all that is in it. Though, I struggle to see that God ever intended that humans would rule over each other when, in Genesis 1:26:

“God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

Sin is constant … but God is constant, as well.

Our world is always changing. Like any living thing, it breaths and grows, increases and decreases, moves and is still. We are to be earth-keepers, protectors. But we and our world’s existence are marred by sin, making perfect function impossible.

But, this world was designed and created by one who knows what it is supposed to look like, function like, without the damage sin brings to people and other living things.

He is still on the throne … but we are not off the hook.

This is my father’s world
Oh, let me never forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong
God is the ruler yet

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June has arrived with it’s lengthening days and starry nights. Our dark and wintery cocooning patterns altered by the warmth and beauty outdoors. Whether we prepare for summer vacations or days of work with time off spent out of doors, June is a reprieve from the usual, mundane patterns of the everyday.

There seems to be rest, recreation and rediscovery in the very air we breath, in the beauty of the sunsets, in the freshness of new growth all around us.

More frequently as I drive to work I yearn to be driving off into the horizon to somewhere, anywhere … just to be going. Going means moving forward, into new places and sights and adventures that rekindle what the French so beautifully call, joie de vivre … joy of living.

There is anticipation in this lighter, warmer month. There is hope in it’s brightness, in it’s turning the corner from one way of living to another, from one outlook on the days, on life.

I love what Ephesians 5:14 says of the light:

“the light makes everything visible.
This is why it is said,
“Awake, O sleeper,
 rise up from the dead,
 and Christ will give you light.”

Ephesians 5:14

As I read this verse I found it interesting that the arising comes before the light is given …

It is as though we need to first do our part … awake, then Christ will provide the light. We arise in faith that the light, that makes all things visible, will be given to us.

I feel that June (and all the summer months) are that gift of light, that we have been arising in anticipation of, throughout the winter months … and now everything is visible.

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I believe that the most important part of the Creation debate is answered in the first five words of Genesis,

in the beginning, God created

From my understanding of the Bible, one must be able to have confidence that however he did it, in whatever length of time, God created, intelligently and intentionally, our world and all contained within it.

This knowledge or faith in God’s ability to create all is the scaffolding that gives us confidence in God’s oversight of every aspect of our lives.

We can know that he is in control,
even when we do not feel that control.

I recently heard a song, by Duke Ellington and Mahala Jackson, called Come Sunday. When I looked up the lyrics, I found myself to be drawn into the gift of Sunday … the Sabbath.

Now, the Sabbath is not necessarily a day on the calendar, so much as a pause, a reset in the week. It is a time, a day that is different from the other days of the week. It is a day of physical rest, of mental rest, of social rest (for the introverts 😉 ), of spiritual rest. It is a day that is different from the others in a week. A day when we give our weariness to him, rest in his arms.

We often do not realize the rest that comes to us by looking, not at ourselves, but at God.

Through our study of his word, our prayers, our worship and even in our acceptance of downtime, a repose, we are renewed and refreshed by ensuring that our hearts and minds take a break from our working, our endeavours, our creating.

The Creator of our world, and all that is in it, rested … therefore we rest.

Come Sunday
Lord, dear Lord of love, God Almighty, God above,
Please look down and see my people through.

I believe that God put sun and moon up in the sky.
I don’t mind the gray skies ’cause they’re just clouds passing by.

He’ll give peace and comfort to every troubled mind,
Come Sunday, oh come Sunday, that’s the day.

Often we feel weary but he knows our every care.
Go to him in secret, he will hear your every prayer.

Up from dawn till sunset, man works hard all day,
Come Sunday, oh come Sunday, that’s the day.

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