Delighting In Creation (October 12, 2003)

Go out and see some nature. It is good for you, and may draw you closer to God.

Recently I had the pleasure of talking to a visitor at church who turned out to love our national and state parks as much as I do. There is a special joy in finding a kindred spirit who agrees that Starved Rock is best when covered with ice and snow, or that the time to visit the Warren Dunes is in the off-season when you can have them all to yourself.

While the Psalmist tended to look skyward for such inspiration ("The heavens declare the glory of God!"), you can also look around you at rivers and trees and canyons and waterfalls to receive that same sense of divine majesty. God put in our hearts something that thrills to the glory of his creation, and I believe it is good to feed that thrill and let it intensify. I remember as a child seeing the mountains of
Grand Teton National Park, and being so consumed with longing that it felt like I would burst inside. It was almost as if I wanted my eyes to be bigger - like I wanted a greater capacity to take in the view and savor it as it ought to be savored.

I believe the voice of God calls to us through that longing. It certainly did for a friend of mine who now serves in youth ministry. He told me that the pivotal moment of his conversion came when he was on vacation in Alaska. There was no religious faith in his upbringing, but as he stared at the mountains one day the thought came
irresistibly to his mind: "There is a God."

There is a God, and he likes to speak his glory and refresh our souls through that which he has made. As 19th-century English minister Charles Spurgeon said to fellow pastors,

He who forgets the humming of the bees among the heather, the cooing of the wood pigeons in the forest, the song of birds in the woods, the rippling of rills among the rushes, and the sighing of the wind among the pines, need not wonder if his heart forgets to sing and his soul grows heavy. A day's breathing of fresh air upon the hills, or a few hours' ramble in the beechwoods' umbrageous calm, would sweep the cobwebs out of the brain of scores of our toiling ministers who are now but half alive. A mouthful of sea air, or a stiff walk in the wind's face, would not give grace to the soul, but it would yield oxygen to the body, which is next best.

Well, this is my day off, and I live only 80 minutes from Matthiessen State Park. Bye.