Glory in the Garden

Dec 27 2022 - Eric Buresh

During the Spring and Summer, our back patio turns into our own little arboretum. We have several flower beds and large flowerpots that are filled with a variety of annuals. As the flowers emerge, the whole area comes alive with a huge variety of bees, butterflies, hummingbirds, etc. As you watch for a little while, you’ll see that some types of bees like certain shapes and types of flowers, and other types of bees like others. Same with the butterflies. They all have a preference and go to the same flowers over and over. As you look closer, you begin to realize that there are different physical characteristics of the insects that make it easier for them to secure nectar from certain types of flowers than others. The same is true for the hummingbirds that only go to flowers where they can stick their long beak into the flower while remaining in flight. As I watch, it brings me delight to be amazed by God’s unique provision for His creation. It’s God’s handiwork in real-time motion, and it repeatedly speaks to me of His mindful care for those insects that is so immeasurably eclipsed by the care He shows us – His children. The garden preaches to me. 

It's cold now. This morning it is 22 degrees. The flowers are all gone and so are the bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. This morning, I’m looking out the window at a different aerial display – robins, blue jays, and doves in constant motion, frenetically jostling with each other for position. Around the back of our yard are eight of what I call scrub pines. They’re tall, skinny, evergreens with limbs that perpetually look half dead. From the time we moved in seven years ago, I wanted to cut those trees down. They are straight-up ugly, and throughout the year, they drop their little blue seed balls all over our back deck area where we have some perpetually seed-covered lounge chairs. Despite having to blow seeds off the deck for months, I’ve never cut those ugly trees down. Our first winter in our house (and every winter since), I have watched literally 1000s of birds come eat those annoying blue balls all winter long. God has given me dominion to cut those trees down (Genesis 1:26), but I preserve them because they preach to me. God uses those ugly trees and the excited birds to remind me that His eye is on the sparrow, and that He is surely watching over me. The little forest preaches to me. 

All of nature preaches (Psalm 19:1-2). All of it calls out to me about the immensity and wisdom and provision of God. It reminds me that I am the created being (Genesis 1:27). Yes, I am made in the Creator’s image, but I am created nonetheless. God is the creator. His creation is indescribably glorious. The more I observe its intricacies, complexities, vastness, and endless beauties, the more I realize He is God and I am not. He is infinite, and I am so finite. He has created everything, and anything I create is totally a dependent creation. I don’t know how I lose track of this. I reject His authority. I ignore His wisdom. I question His goodness and His power. How can I blithely do this? Nature preaches so loudly, but some pride from within screams back.  

God asks in response, “Where were you . . .” Today, I encourage you to read with me Job chapters 38-39. Read slowly. Let His words sink in. Think about His creation. Listen. Then, pause and think about your response. Is it like Job’s response? Now, turn the page and read chapter 40:4-5 for the answer. Are you comfortable with Job’s words? If so, declare them to God. As you enjoy the world, let it preach to you. Let it remind you. Let it delight you. But also let it humble you. When you “[h]umble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, He will lift you up.” (James 4:10).