In recent weeks, daily emphasis on an appreciation of God’s creation has become a priority for me. It’s not that I’ve never previously appreciated it, but both quantitatively and qualitatively speaking, it has been sporadic and lackluster at best. My communal time with God within the “walls” of His natural sanctuary has been inconsistent and interspersed with long periods of taking His handiwork for granted.

Several factors and recent influences have converged to renew this appreciation within me, including my current station of life. I’m now in my early sixties and pondering my remaining days. Who will I be and what shall I do with the time I have left? 

I sometimes think about life as a three-act play consisting of thirty years per act. With that view in mind, if I’m blessed to live to ninety, it’s accurate to say I have already embarked upon my third and final act. The curtain is lifted, and I’ve walked onto the stage, if not for the benefit of a full house, at least for an audience of One, and it’s His opinion that matters most.

During this last act, I desire to be as fully awake and engaged as possible. Still, I realize any number of things threaten to thwart that ambition, including the inevitable debility of my body and perhaps my mind as well. Gracious Lord, may that come later than sooner. 

For me, part of being in tune and in touch is to take some portion of each day to observe my natural surroundings and direct my thoughts Godward. Even if it’s just for a moment, it is of great benefit, but if I can give it additional time, the regenerative effects are invaluable. As Romans 1:20 tells us, through our observation of creation, we can clearly see and understand the invisible attributes of the Creator, including His eternal power and Godhead.

This past week, I took some vacation days, which afforded me prolonged moments to shut off the clamor of the world and its beleaguering electronic distractions. I had time to sit on the porch and close my eyes and really listen, not only to the general chorus of the birds around me, but to actually distinguish their individual voices. I heard the wind in the trees, and when rain brought relief from the firecracker heat we’ve had leading up to Independence Day, the showers were refreshing to every part of me – my skin, my soul, my senses.

“I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses. And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.”

This evening brought additional rain, and in its aftermath, thick clouds of fog rolled into the crevices separating the variously blue-hued mountains that comprise my valley view down the holler from my home. But then, the fog began to rise and drift and shift, and as dark clouds parted the sky above, rays of light played upon the green hillsides.

As I made these observations, the song “Peace in the Valley” was impressed upon me. The chorus of this well-known hymn says, “There will be peace in the valley for me some day,” and while I know there will be peace for me in the hereafter, I was experiencing it in real time, in the here and now. Though it may be cliché, that is a blessing that comes from taking time to “stop and smell the roses.” In John 10:10, Jesus tells us He has come that we might have life, and that we might have it more abundantly. I claim this not only for our eternity but also for our present.

At the risk of painting this scene with a saccharine brush or making it too Disney-esque, my view of the mountains was enhanced by a young deer in the foreground, grazing grass in an adjacent field, a small rabbit sitting in my yard, and birds, including a number of hopping robins, hunting for worms after the rain. To top it off with some living color, my geraniums are in full bloom, the gladioluses have blossomed, and the Turks-cap lilies are not far behind.

Then when night falls, and “the birds hush their singing,” I am often afforded a cloudless sky that exposes an array of stars across the firmament. My astrological knowledge is weak, but I can usually manage to pick out the Big Dipper. 

And this time of year, fireflies abound. I mean, how remarkable are fireflies? They spotlight God’s whimsical genius in His invention of an insect that lights up at night. I can only imagine what delight He took in creating all the amazing variations of species that we find in nature. Yet, again, how often have I taken it all for granted? 

So, my advice to me is my advice to you. Get outside. Take a walk. Look around. Be still before the Creator, and rejoice in Him.

“Oh, Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds Thy hands have made, I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, Thy power throughout the universe displayed. Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee, how great Thou art, how great Thou art!”