Greener Pastures

This summer has been an interesting one. I’ll be around Bloomington for 12 weeks… amazingly, of those twelve weeks, I’ll only be here (in Bloomington) for one full weekend. It is a busy and crazy summer to say the least. Yet between all the work, all the grad classes, all the trips to Indy, Evansville, and California, the Bible studies, the coffee dates, and the friends, God has been by my side, graciously and lovingly revealing to me His majesty.

My words do not do His words, nor His works, justice. But I hope it will give you just a glimpse of the glory that is to come (Rom 8:18). Below are just a few instances of the thousands of little ways God has demonstrated His power in my life this summer.

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Tonight, I was sitting at the Bakehouse with one of my Bible study girls, heavy into a conversation about God, the men in our lives, and how to be Godly women for them, when a little 3-yr old boy Mee-shee joined our conversation. With little warning he left his mom and dad, wandered to our couch, and plopped himself between us. Introducing himself, and his monkey, Adichay, with hug after hug. He would joyfully jump from one of our laps to the other, falling into us, smiling at us, laughing with us, and just laying there in our arms. We were both shocked at how outgoing this little toddler was.

After playing with him for a while and a brief conversation with Mee-shee’s mom, we found out he was autistic. His mother was literally in awe that he felt so comfortable around us. She said because of his autism Mee-shee is terrified of strangers. She’d never seen Him trust anyone like that.

It may not seem like much of a story, but it left me with an incredible realization. The Holy Spirit is alive and well in a 3-year-old autistic boy. He could discern what was good and pure and be drawn to it. What child-like faith (Matthew 18:3). A poor boy prone to fear, and in the presence of God He was not just at peace, he was jovial and completely surrendered.


God reveals His majesty in adorable little boys. He also reveals His majesty in commanding storms.


For the last week or so Indiana has been wrought with severe summer storms. Dear friends dealt with the tragedy of having their own house struck by lightning and catch fire while they were still inside (praise God they made it out alright!). And the storms culminated into two mega storms on Monday and Tuesday night. Each night the city sat under severe storm, flash flood, and tornado warnings. Monday night winds reached over 45 miles per hour, closer to 60 in some locations. There were approximately 9,000 lightning strikes every half hour. Tuesday the storm rolled in so ferociously and rapidly that the mall was evacuated, and the IU emergency alert was activated urging all students on campus to seek immediate shelter.

I was downright giddy these couple days. I grew up in Texas watching tornadoes with my mom, so this devious weather was like home to me. It reminded me of home in Texas, but it also reminded me of home in my Father.

Who but the Lord can make the winds move with such might? Even the winds obey Him (Matthew 8:27, Luke 8:25). These storms were beyond powerful, some of the most forceful I’d ever seen and it just brought me over and over again to the feet of the Lord, in awe that He has the power to destroy this world.

It’s humbling to understand His power and wrath. It is perhaps more humbling to understand His grace.

When I woke up the next morning to run, the world was a completely different place. All around me on my run I saw the remnants of the storm. Branches, twigs, leaves, and mulch paved the sidewalks, violently plucked from their former homes. Countless trees had been uprooted, toppled over and completely blocking a few roads. Still, the sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was shining brightly through fluffy white clouds.

“Though sorrow may last through the night, His joy comes in the morning.” Psalm 30:5.
Lush flowers and abundant greenery surrounded my run, possibly outnumbering the fallen wood. Even in death, God opens doors for life to enter.


His majesty is revealed in commanding storms, but it is also revealed in delicate flowers.


I’ve always been fond of flowers, plants, and the way God shows his love for us through nature. I can scarcely wait for the day I’ll have a garden of my own. Over and over I’m blown away by the countless metaphors God uses in comparing us to the plant world. Last summer I went on the most amazing run where I saw the beauty in this leafy green world and finally understood just what my Papa had been trying to teach me for so long. My trip to California reminded me of that great day.

I’m blown away by the different kinds of flowers and plant-life we have here in the Midwest, but California puts us to shame. Day after day I saw more exotic, vibrant, strange flowers than I knew existed. As soon as I got home from my trip I searched my old e-mails to find what I’d written about my run just one year before:

We (people) are so much like plants. God, in His infinite wisdom, knew this and wrote about it often in His book. I’d be willing to bet that at least half of the books in the Bible (and probably more) make some metaphor comparing us to seeds, plants, fruit, vines, or the harvest. This makes sense for the time as well. I’m sure farming was one of the most common career paths in antiquity, so God wisely used metaphors His beloved creatures could relate to. Because we are less directly connected to the land nowadays, I think we sometimes miss out on the beauty of the farming metaphors.

Plants are an incredible thing to me. They begin as this tiny little seed. Even colossal sycamore trees start this way. And you sow these seeds (which Jesus had something to say about) and when they’re sown well, it means the seed has landed in a place where it is surrounded and overwhelmed by good soil. So this little seed is then hidden from the world in its first stage of life. Not until it’s began to sprout does it peak out from the ground, showing the world it’s ready. This strong little bud has been nourished well in the dark, in the quiet, but from this point on, the sun (Son) and light (John 14:6) become crucial to its existence. So much so that without them, the plant would wither and die.

And so plants grow. Slowly. That may be my favorite part of the metaphor, how slowly we grow. You never see the change happening. You can’t watch a plant grow. You’ll never see the moment a flower bud opens, because there isn’t one moment. The entire growth of a plant is a process. A continual process that never ends. So long as there is sun, water, and nutrients, a plant never stops growing.

There are seasons when flowers are in bloom, and seasons where they shed their buds to allow for new growth the following season. And yet, the plants grow on; sometimes they grow on their own. Even the most beautiful branches can grow ugly and unruly when they are not pruned. This is a difficult process, because good, healthy branches are being cut back. It’s painful for the plant, and involves strong, violent instruments. It’s for their good, but that doesn’t change how much it hurts.

The other thing I love about plants is how different they all are. There are some that are made to provide sustenance, fruits and vegetables; there are some who bring beauty to the world, flowers; some who are meant to protect and defend, poison ivy, thorns; some give us rest with their shade, trees; and still others provide healing, aloe leaves. It’s unreal how many billions of different shapes and sizes plants come in, all with their own unique purpose. Still, no matter how different, all plants bear their makers lush, life-giving, green image. Unbelievable!

My final thought from this stream-of-consciousness run was the harvest. I think it’s interesting the tool used to harvest crops. In Jesus’ time the tool was the sickle, the creepy thing the Grim Reaper carries. How interesting that in our confused misrepresentation we have made death look so scary. That the tool God uses to cut us down and bring us home has become scary and violent looking.

“Consider the lilies of the field, see how they grow. They do not labor or spin.” They just grow. Lilies (and all plants really) have it right. They’re simple and unaffected. They are so incredibly fragile and vulnerable, having to rely solely on the Son to give them light, water, and to prune them when necessary. The lily has absolutely no say in its own life, it just grows. See now why I love considering the lilies? They’re a constant reminder of how I should be living my life.

I’m reading a book right now that describes flowers well; the narrator is explaining how crops don’t need us to grow, they just need sun and water. “[God] must have lacked faith in mankind’s follow-through capabilities, on the day He created flowers.” The same could be said of us. We have terrible follow-through. That’s why we’re dependent on the Lord and not ourselves.

God's majesty in children, storms, and plants. Only He could be found in such unique places all at once.

Praise be to God that He who knew no sin became sin, so that through grace we could experience the blessings and righteousness of God in everything! (2 Cor 5:21)

He is in everything, and He is my everything.