I have been enchanted by the natural world—the outdoors—for as long as I can remember. Having parents who enjoyed being outside certainly played a role. Some of my earliest memories are of cross-country skiing in Michigan. I could ski long before I could ride a bike without training wheels.
I also benefitted from spending a month during several summers at a lake cottage. My standard for bliss remains sitting on a porch swing watching a late afternoon thunderstorm roll in across the lake. I can close my eyes and still see and smell it 45 years later.
Once I was in full-time ministry, I would often sneak away to look for birds, but there would be moments when the beauty of the forest would raise me to thoughts of the Creator. Just sitting or standing next to a creek being amazed at it all. Being a bird-watcher is a good excuse to get outdoors, and seeing birds is a nice perk when you get there.
In Iraq, I felt very confident that the Lord used his winged creatures to remind me of his grace. One day, we had two separate convoys attacked while returning from one of our outlying bases. Each attack had cost the life of one of our soldiers. We had another mission planned to the outpost to demonstrate our resolve both to our enemies and to our troops at the outpost. I was slated to accompany this mission and I was a bit nervous.
Throughout the day, I kept seeing birds, and they were new birds, birds I had never seen. In the parlance of bird-watchers, they were "lifers." But it wasn't until I saw a common bird, a House Sparrow, resting in the shade on the wheel of one of our vehicles that I finally heard, "Not a sparrow falls to the ground apart from the knowledge of your heavenly Father, and you are of more value than many sparrows."
On block leave after returning from Iraq, my wife and I took the kids on an extended camping trip from Texas to Florida by way of Indiana and Ohio. I found it cathartic to be surrounded by lush, green, eastern forests, rivers, and lakes after a year of desert and death. Sitting on my kayak in one of my favorite parks from childhood, hearing Red-winged Blackbirds call in the reeds was like God speaking to my heart deep words that I felt but still can't vocalize. It was far beyond bird and birder, but was a moment of communion with God as I listened to the blackbird sing just as God had fashioned him to. I was reminded of God's remarkable love and care for me.
I’m not much of a contemplative, but being outside is as close as I usually get to anything I would call a contemplative experience. To be outside, surrounded by the works of God is like being home with him. I see evidence of his glory and might, and I long for the day when I will see it even fuller and clearer.
Grace & peace,
Chris