A love of creation is ingrained in me, and has been for as long as I am aware. When I was very small, I remember creation in the form of an orchard and my little garden plot. As a teenager, I remember it in the form of mountains with gardens on the sides, bamboo forests, and a Bird of Paradise perched in a tree above the trail to the river. As a young mommy, I saw creation in my own children, yes, but also in so many countless things. I looked for the beauty of nature so I could point it out, but more often, it was pointed out to me by our little observant ones, closer to the ground than I, and more aware of the simple things.
As I write, I’m looking out the window (thank you, strict typing teacher, that I don’t have to look at the keyboard). There is a squirrel on the bird feeder (he must not realize what it is, that’s all), and there are a half dozen chickens beneath it, where the squirrel is feeding them by dumping what he does not want from the feeder (all but sunflower seeds). The cherry tree’s green leaves leave a dappled movement of light across the ground and the chickens’ browns, blacks, and whites.
Oh, nature is a beauty! It is there to remind of us its Creator, and goodness, it really does!
Job must’ve loved it as much as I do. He spoke often of nature (and the Creator spoke back to Job of it). Job lets us know we are only seeing a glimpse. He said,
“Indeed, these are the mere edges of His ways, and how small a whisper we hear of Him.” Indeed, Job!