A memory from my childhood reminds me that God’s plans for who we are were sown ages before they germinated. Because nature nurtures my soul, I always pay close attention to it when I’m outside. Even before I knew the Lord, I enjoyed his creation.
One memory that hints at how infinite God’s thoughts about us are often whispers not to fret and not to think God’s forgotten about me. Even now, 50 years later, I remember the coolness of the car window when I pressed my nose against it to view the delicate ferns growing alongside the highway our family drove down to visit my grandparents on the coast. I was intrigued by the verdant, natural landscape.
My hometown was rarely treated to such greenery. Being born and raised in a semi-arid climate made me feel like I was on another planet whenever we visited the contrasting cedar, fern, moss, and rain-saturated parts of our province.
My childhood neighborhood was often visited by tumbleweeds that rolled down the main road that I crossed to attend school. And if I ventured into the lovely hills surrounding our valley, I needed to guard against cactus prickles and poisonous rattlesnakes.
Little did I know—but much God knew—I would end up spending most of my life living in the temperate rainforest region my heart craved.
Most weekends, my husband and I now visit parks and woodlands around our home. Most weekends I carry my camera to collect as many stunning vistas, greenery, and wildlife as I can. Then I share my nature photography on social media for the purpose of propelling appreciation and praise for our Creator God.
I have other memories from childhood that hinted about God’s future plans for me. The same winds that blew tumbleweeds across my hometown blew a small sun-bleached piece of paper across my childhood back lawn. I picked it up and wrote a silly nature poem on it. Little did I know—and much God knew—I would write hundreds and hundreds of inspirational poems as an adult.
And when I was feverish with a flu as a child, and I dreamed my name was written on a piece of paper as thin as the ones in an old Bible an elderly neighbor had given to me, I realized years later God was gently inviting me to have my name written in the Book of Life.
So whenever we fear our faith isn’t what it should be, we need to remember and trust the One who brought us this far is also the same God of love who completes the plans he sowed in us before we were born.
Who are we that God should bother with us? We’re children of the King.
Who am I, Soverign Lord, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far? — 2 Samuel 7:18 (NIV)
“When we are living in our truest deepest selves we know how to care and connect.”