The Whispers of Nature

I have to admit that I never think about Earth Day much, partly because my love for nature and creation is deeply ingrained in me; therefore, every day is an “Earth Day.” That said, I understand the significance of naming a day to ponder and take inventory of our common home and relationship to all things created.

Here are a few thoughts on this day.

Nature can teach us so much about ourselves, others, life, and God. It can bring us to the truth. If we are open, the mystery of nature can move us from the beautiful to the good to the true.

The “big sky” of the upper northwest can open our minds to the bigness and wonder of a world and universe that we are privileged to be a part of. Gratefulness. The piercing serenity of a Hawaiian sunset can draw us into a lullaby-like state by drawing out our anxieties, causing them to fade as the last light dims in the sky. Peacefulness. The mystical Highlands of Scotland invite us into a liminal space, causing us to be present with the past. Sacredness. While the absolute majestic beauty of Switzerland can remind us that beauty dwarfs ugliness, good overcomes evil, and Love swallows up fear. Redemption.

That said, this truth is not just offered in those far-off places; it is anywhere we unite our lives, minds, and souls to creation itself.

I believe that most truth resides in paradox. When two seemingly opposed things come together, they provide a deeper and more authentic reality. Nature reflects this paradoxical truth, which demonstrates our truth, especially deep within our souls.

For example, how can a beautiful, tranquil beach become a place of such force and destruction with its winds, rains, and floods? Likewise, how can my life reflect beauty while also reflecting so much messiness?

Nature, in some ways, draws us to itself. An element in us wants to be drawn into the wild, into the wilderness. We want to explore those places that take us out of our neat, safe, secure life. The same can be said for our souls. The spiritual life is not for the faint of heart; it requires us to look into our deepest, darkest places to uncover things we might not want to see. Paradoxically, by seeing them, we not only might become free of them, but those dark places become the exact places of joy and hope.

As I get older, the colder weather in the Northeast makes life more challenging. That said, I love the four seasons: seasons of growth, flourishing, changing, and dying, only to be able to grow anew. These four seasons reflect so much of our seasons of life: seasons of growth and nurturing, seasons of darkness and maybe death, only to be renewed in joy and hope.

This picture grabs me the most of all the images I took living in Switzerland.

So simple.

So beautiful.

So True.

There is…Life after Death.

Amen

Some people, in order to discover God, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things. Look above you! Look below you! Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead, He set before your eyes the things that He had made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that?

-St. Augustine