by Delana Taylor
“But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind”
(Job 12:7-10 NIV).
After a night in a rustic lodge at a ladies’ retreat, I woke early for time alone. As a mom with tiny youngsters, I needed this rare, prolonged respite. The cool air refreshed me, inviting me to fine-tune my senses in the outdoor beauty. I walked quietly on a path carpeted with pine needles and leaves, following the tree-lined trail.
Near a cliff’s edge, I surveyed the grandeur of the Great Smoky Mountains, so immense before small me. The dawn’s curtain of light revealed a majestic view with mountain ranges layered in shades of green to gray. Scattered clouds blanketed a few peaks. A lone light flickered in the sleeping valley below. Occasionally a bird caw echoed in the quiet.
Morning mist rose off a distant lake nestled between the forest-draped ridges. The arresting beauty absorbed my attention and called to my heart like the verse, “I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from?” (Psalm 121:1 NIV). Verse 2 answers this question with, “My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
Stunned and stilled, I observed and learned the lessons the Lord had for me in nature. Fatigue from life’s pressures had fused with a gnawing uncertainty about my purpose and call to prioritize writing. These issues diminished as nature spoke to me, without words, but in a language I comprehended. Creation was everywhere present, from the large to the small, and all of it mattered to the whole.
That panoramic view reminded me that God made them and made me. He knows what works best because he’s the Great Designer. If he created all of that magnificence, how could I not trust him to handle my struggles, confusion, hurts, and giftedness?
I returned to the lodge with my faith enlarged—fuller, more grounded, and with a better perspective of my place in his plan and his call for me to write. Those great mountains which bear the beauty of His imprint—reflect my great God who shapes my words for him as well.
Lord, thanks for developing me for Your usefulness. Amen.