I surveyed the land around me as I sat on a flat rock halfway up the grassy hill. The forest across the river below gave way to snowcapped peaks. Bluebirds added vibrant accents to the colorful carpet of wild flowers, and their song mingled with the trill of the meadowlark and harmonized with the whispering breeze as it sang among the pines. The scene was so perfect I cried. I sobbed actually. I didn't know why; we had been in that area many times before for weekend picnics and hikes. I wasn't sad at all. I couldn't understand the flood of emotion that engulfed me.
Years later, I read The Sacred Romance by John Eldredge and Brent Curtis and finally understood.
Brent tells about a favorite boyhood sanctuary he enjoyed on his family farm. He talks about the forest and stream where the "singers" sang their song. The crickets, katydids, and cicadas sang with the murmur of the creek. Then he goes on to say:
Someone or something has romanced us from the beginning with creek-side singers and pastel sunsets, with the austere majesty of snowcapped mountains and the poignant flames of autumn colors telling us of something-or someone-leaving with a promise to return. These things can, in an unguarded moment, bring us to our knees with longing for this something or someone who is lost; someone or something only our heart recognizes.1
All of creation sings a love song to our hearts, and on that early June morning, I heard its song. My soul cried out with longing for the One who made it all. The snowcapped peaks proclaimed His majesty. The clear mountain stream tumbling over the rocks and resting in quiet eddies whispered to my heart that Someone loved me.
If you are ever discouraged or tempted to think that your life is meaningless or that God doesn't exist or, even worse, that He does exist but doesn't love you, look around. Catch a glimpse of the One who made our spectacular world. Listen. He's whispering your name. He's calling you to hear His heart and see Him instead of the rubble and chaos of our broken world.
Sue Carlisle grew up on the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming. An enrolled member of the Ponca Tribe of Nebraska, her passion is to encourage people to look at creation and see our awesome Creator. Sue is author of Walking with the Creator Along the Narrow Road (© 2013 Indian Life Books) from which the above column was taken. She is a columnist for Indian Life. She and her husband Wes now make their home in Thunder Bay, Ontario.
