Seeking God in the Garden

On a recent drive home from church, my oldest daughter was excited to share what she had learned on her first day of Catechism. She asked if we knew how many ways we can talk to God.

“The Bible and prayer,” she stated.

Our youngest chimed in: “And nature.”

In typical fashion, my oldest was quick to correct her. But I interrupted: her three-year-old sister was on to something.

Throughout the Bible, how many times did God make Himself known to man through nature? There is the obvious example of God promising Noah the world would never be destroyed by a flood again and sending a rainbow as sign of that promise (Genesis 9:12-17). Or perhaps we can consider the story of Moses and the burning bush in Exodus 3. Shortly after that, God sends multiple plagues as a warning to Pharoah to let His people go (Exodus 7 – 12).

While we may not experience God communicating through nature directly, we can still seek out God’s presence in nature, as Jesus did before His death: “Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and He said to His disciples, ‘Sit here, while I go over there and pray’” (Matthew 26:36).

When I was a high school English teacher, one of my favorite books to teach students was The Scarlet Letter (even though it was likely not their favorite to read). One of the most prominent symbols in the novel is nature, used by Hawthorne as one way to point out the deep hypocrisy of Puritan society’s desire to be holy and pure.

For example, Pearl, the daughter of the main character Hester, is born out of wedlock and scorned by her neighbors—though she is only a child. I loved reading about that young girl’s wild spirit, blatant disregard for society’s standards, and deep connection to nature, which only fueled the Puritan's aversion to the young girl. Hawthorne says the Puritans feared nature and viewed it as a refuge for evil. Isn’t it ironic that this community that prided themselves on their Christian virtues isolated themselves from the very place that Jesus retreated to find fellowship with His Father in His darkest hour?

Even today, aside from Scripture, is there a better place to find God than nature? After all, that is where He originally placed man to live in fellowship with Him.

For the remaining minutes of our short drive home that Sunday, we talked about how nature can point us to God—the consistency of the rising and setting sun, His faithfulness in providing nearby farms filled with food for us to enjoy, and the awe we feel during a thunderstorm as the ominous sky is filled with brilliant flashes of light. We can learn about God and be reminded of His presence through all of nature.

The conversation quickly turned to chaos as we launched into a hasty lunch, naptime, and preparation for the robust week ahead. However, as I thought about that conversation later, I realized how little time I take to practice what I preached on that car ride home.

Have I missed the quiet whispers of God’s tender mercies in the recent cool mornings? Have I ignored the exclamations of His power as the heavy, smoke-polluted air is swept away from the valley by a lengthy gust of wind? Did I praise God in the storm that granted my loved ones a plentiful harvest on the farm?

How often do we miss opportunities to seek and savor God's presence in the garden?