The One Invitation You Should Always Accept
I stumble my way along the inclined path, surveying for snakes and live children, because then it would prove that they in fact haven’t fallen off the cliff nor been bitten by said snakes. My eyes are fixed on the many scenarios that could play out on our family hike, and since my breath is becoming more labored with the altitude I find the need to pause.
I tilt my head back, fresh water hydrating my throat on the way down while my eyes catch hold of what hovers above. Apexes of pine trees tower over me, and my mind is thankful for the reprieve of worry. Each point stretches towards the sky, towards that which is vastly more expansive than my narrow perspective below and I realize in that moment, once again, how critical it is to look up.
Among many things, glancing upward and observing creation extends a never-ending invitation to become acquainted with the heart of God; it points us to His character and His plans for us if we choose to accept. Then upon acceptance:
We acknowledge our surroundings.
Living in Texas, Colorado, New York City or California, I’ve been surrounded. From the flat plains, expansive skies, and endless oceans to the ridges of mountains or statuesque skyscrapers, there is a sense of comfort and finiteness represented with each varied terrain. Honestly, at times I felt claustrophobic living in Manhattan from a lack of sky views, and times in Texas when I would give anything for one degree of elevation to alter the scenery, but there was no denying I was surrounded.
It is in this feeling, cocooned by diversity and beauty, that you and I can take comfort— even in some small way. We are reminded that we are finite in the midst of the infinite, minuscule in the midst of the magnitude. Psalm 125 reveals how mountains, for example, allow us to connect nature to the heart of God.
“As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people, from this time forth and forevermore.” Psalm 125:2 ESV
What comfort for us even on the most lonely of days; we are continually surrounded by nature and the love of God with no end.
2. We benefit from the pause.
One thing is for certain, you can’t keep walking when you are looking up. Believe me—I’ve tried. In fact, my pet peeve living in NYC was when tourists tried to walk AND look or take pictures at the same time. It just doesn’t work. Trust me, you need to stop, pull over, pause and really savor what you are witnessing. You just do.
It is in light of this fact that we discover another benefit of nature. It beckons us to pause, doesn’t it? We can’t keep going and stop to smell the roses. We must become single-minded, solely focused on observing the world around us and when we do, when we slow down, only then do we breathe in the creativity of God in our surroundings. The pause presents a grace-filled opportunity to savor and see God for who He is as Creator of all things. The order in which He has created our tangible world also gives us pause to the chaos of our mind, and we are free to take the next step knowing He likewise has ordered our path.
It is also in this stillness that we are invited to meet with Him. As Psalm 23 reminds us, God invites us into the calm and quiet to restore us. And so, this pause is worth it, if we will only accept the invitation and look for Him there.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.” Psalm 23:1-3
3. We remember who is in control.
In looking upward we see the birds of the air flying in formation, storm clouds rolling by, and stars sprinkling the night sky. We cannot fully explain how each aspect of nature came to be with such intricacies and such purpose apart from the Designer, Creator, and Sustainer that is God. Truly. It would take more faith to prove God didn’t exist when you observe the details of nature and how each living thing interacts, reproduces, scavenges, and survives. It is through this wonder that our hearts are filled with awe and rest at the One who holds all of these things together.
Not only is He the sustainer of all living things, but He is the giver of all that is necessary in His chosen time.
Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?
And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and our heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
So this week, don’t forget to look up and accept the invitation to pause and ponder the beauty and the design that is all around you. Don’t forget who your Creator is and how He has woven His purposes into nature. Don’t forget that He loves you.
Then tilt your head back and let that truth wash over you like a cool, refreshing drink along life’s tiring way.
