When the Earth Speaks
It is said in some sects of Christianity, that Creation is the first Bible, and the actual Scriptures are the second.
Even the book of Job (12:7-10) exhorts:
“But now ask the beasts, and they will teach you; And the birds of the air, and they will tell you; Or speak to the earth, and it will teach you; And the fish of the sea will explain to you; Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this, In whose hand is the life of every living thing, And the breath of all mankind?”
This makes much sense to me, and has been a pivotal component of my walk with the Lord, as my connection to the land is strong. Just as I feel ‘off-kilter’ and completely ‘out of whack’ if I fail to pray or engage creatively with the Lord on a regular basis, I feel a similar sort of ‘off-ness’ if I fail to get enough time fellowshipping with the trees, birds, insects, and dirt. To go without this time of fellowship is like suddenly being told you must function in the world with a blindfold when you never have, before; something very critical to daily living is missing. The resulting gaping hole leaves you anxious, pent-up, and bereft of direction.
Suffice to say I personally find lessons and great enrichment in my walk with Christ everywhere my feet tread on wild lands.
Such as when I stumbled upon Eriogonum niveum (Snow buckwheat) this weekend while traipsing around the seasonally desolate Snake River canyon.
Snow buckwheat is a native plant to Eastern Washington, and I have probably encountered it many times in wilderness areas over the years and simply not noticed it. Much of the year, it looks, well, dead. Timing is everything, however, and this weekend the unusual, fluffy clumps of white resting on top of these “dead” bushes had me parking the car on the shoulder and diving into the ditch to investigate.
The warm, late-summer breeze threatened to yank my sun hat off my head as I inspected this bizarre plant. What, in it's right mind actually blooms this late in the season? Crouching down next to it in the rocky soil, however, I could feel the Lord speaking to me about resiliency.
See, Heather, how it is surviving in the desert? Do you see how it is blooming at a time when few other plants do?
Yes, I see, Lord.
It looks dead, but at the right, appointed time, it flowers. Many things in life may look dead, but they are only waiting for My word to blossom. Can you rest in Me until it is your time?
I can try.
It's not easy, and many times it's quite painful to wait. Sometimes — as is the case with myself — life has battered us to the point we don't entirely know how to rest.
But we can try. We can try, knowing that He is for us and with us in every breath. And we can try, even when the heart-deep understanding of a future in full bloom escapes us again and again. Because He is a Good, Good Father who delights in our every step closer to Him.
Snow buckwheat now reminds me that even when I feel dead and dry and my days are full of weariness, my appointed time to bloom is coming.
Yours is, too.
What a delight
To find
Here, at the end of days,
Life abundant,
Vivacious wild inflorescence
In spite of the cyclic
Dying.