Notes from Nature: Green, Abundant Life
Summer surprises me every single year.
One would think that spring, bringing new life each day, would be the perfect gradual progression toward life-in-full.
But somehow, the big green giant always sneaks up on me.
One day, I’m looking at just-sprouting leaves against the sky, and the next, all the blue is hidden behind a solid green wall.
Everywhere, there is so much green.
So much life.
Walking in the woods, this reality is even more apparent. The plants, trees, shrubs, vines, and flowers—not a one of them seems concerned about what the others are doing around them.
No vine is shy to reach out its tendrils.
No shrub is worried that it is growing too close to its neighbor.
No flower hesitates, fearing it may be overshadowed.
No tree questions whether it is getting too big.
Densely crowded together, each one confidently claims the space in which God has planted it. Drawing from the nutrients of the soil, the warmth of the sunlight, and the refreshment of the rain, they throw themselves with abandon into living—just as God intended.
The abundance of green is everywhere—a riotous chorus of life singing out around me, enveloping me, encouraging me.
I am not simply an observer, but somehow connected to it all.
Now is the time, the season to live with gusto, it seems to say.
As the years seem to pass with ever more quickness, I begin to recognize the truth that all of this summer life around me is speaking.
It really is time to let go, as never before.
To let go of concerns and fears, and instead, live in even greater trust and surrender.
To not look to myself to find the answers and figure everything out, but rather to God, who has already given me the gifts and graces I need to live fully in this unique time and place where he has planted me.
And this is my hope for us, my friends: that we may let go of all that keeps us from receiving the fullness of life God has for us—peaceful, joyful, beautiful, and abundant.
That together, in all our varied forms and seasons, we may become something like the summer woods—lush, full, deeply rooted, and alive with the abundant life of God.
