Leviathan

“Stop.” The direct and serious tone of my traveling companion’s request halted my steps mid-motion. She stood staring intently at the ground before us, with laser beam focus on something that I obviously could not see. She knelt, pulling back the scattered, decomposing leaves that cover the floor of the woods surrounding our church. Scooping back last year’s pine straw, a smile began to gather as the quarry she’d spotted came slowly into view.

I watched as the shiny, silver metal of her shovel head moved beneath a tiny, fragile stalk. Six little seed heads encircled that stalk, conveying in their own way a beauty as great as that of the flowers they pointed backward toward through time.

“Adder’s Tongue Orchid!” she exclaimed with an eager, but professional excitement. To me this seemed quite the name for the dried-up shell of a plant that cowered below us. It wouldn’t even have made a satisfying crunch beneath my boot. Our other companions followed quickly, eager to see this newly-found woodland resident.

“This we should rescue,” she said, and in a moment she’d expertly removed the composted earth that surrounded the plant's hidden roots. Depositing the heavy clay hunk in a plastic grocery sack, she handed me the gift of earth and said, “plant it somewhere shady, it should bloom this summer.”

My new friends and I spent the balance of the morning combing the backside of SOTH’s property, climbing into the creek, scaling steep ridges and getting caught up in sharp greenbrier. They taught me how beautiful a sourwood can be when it’s transplanted in the right way, at the right time, in the right place. We talked about the delights of muscadine propagation and wonder of wild azaleas. I even saw some lichen harvested from an old rotten log to be used in the garden. Its deep blue-green mass, accented by delicate, flame-red highlights have earned it the name “British Soldiers.”

These representatives of the Georgia Native Plant Society had come to SOTH to spend a morning looking at the property that will be cleared this year, making way for the movement of Dorsett Shoals road that will result in a straightened, hopefully safer, intersection.

Their group is dedicated to the appreciation of our area’s native plant life, and they are particularly interested in “rescuing” plants that will soon fight a losing battle with a bulldozer blade. They will return, and when they do, we’ll be invited. As Spring arrives, the woods will come back to life and these good folks can help us move some of that life to our own backyards.

Their gift for spotting life in the midst of winter’s brown death and decay struck me as nothing short of amazing. Where I saw only naked trees (which all look the same without leaves, by the way) they saw a whole wilderness of wonderful life. Did you know that we worship every Sunday in the midst of ebony spleenwort, Christmas fern, cinnamon fern, grape fern, resurrection fern, running ground cedar, low bush blueberries, southern magnolia, wild ginger and blue eye grass? And that’s just the beginning.

I will never forget hearing one of my favorite seminary teachers, Roberta Bondi, talk about her experience of catching a rainbow trout for the very first time. She says that she was overwhelmed at the colors and engineering of the marvel that she pulled from the stream. But ultimately, it was not the fish’s beauty that gave her pause, so much as the realization of how that beauty had been hidden from human view. “God has made a rainbow trout to be incredibly beautiful,” she said, “and he didn’t do that for us. It lives its whole life away from human eyes, giving glory to God by doing what it was made to do in its own, beautiful way.”

Sometimes, we really need those moments of perspective. Every time I get to sit in the woods and find a few moments to be a part of the creation that God has made, I always find myself thinking, “wow, life is just happening out here, just like this, all the time.”

Creeks still flow, birds still fly, bugs still crawl, fish still swim, plants still grow, even when we’re not there to be their audience. God is still God, whether we’re checked in or checked out of his presence.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could check in more often? I don’t just mean by sitting with the trees, although that’s not a bad idea. What I mean is, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could walk through an entire day of life with the focus that comes from truly knowing why we’re here.

We’ve got way more in common with that rainbow trout than we might like to think. We’re here because God delights in us. We’re here to give God glory.

…And that’s it. Really.

Do you think we human beings have it all figured out? I read a wonderful story today from the New York times about a scientific expedition that just unearthed all manner of previously undiscovered species in New Guinea. Those animals gave glory to God even before we decided what their latin names should be. Which is more marvelous – that we found them, or that we share the same Creator, the same Author of It All who delights in both people…and frogs.

Q: “Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain, and a way for the thunderbolt, to bring rain on a land where no one lives, on the desert, which is empty of human life, to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground put forth grass?” (Job 38:25-27)

A: God.

And if God loves the frogs, and the ferns…if God makes rain in the desert for no more reason than his deep-seated love of green grass… “will he not much more clothe you, -- you of little faith?” (Matthew 6:30).

God... We are so thankful for the tiny, dry orchids of winter, and for the promise of Spring, and the flowers that are most surely still to come.

Grace & Peace,
Adam

LIFE AT SOTH:

Many of you will be curious about the proposed intersection development referenced in this week's blog, and please feel free to contact us in the office if you'd like to talk about it. Also, feel free to contact the folks at the Douglas County D.O.T. who can probably give you more information. For now, we are waiting for contact from the county to begin the process of discussion as they move toward beginning work on the project. Hopefully you got to follow the link to the drawing as it's posted on the county website. As more information becomes available, it will be passed right on to the congregation.

Also, the folks from the Georgia Native Plant Society will be out this spring to do "plant rescue" operations, and we're looking forward to setting those dates very soon. Look for announcements of dates in the next few weeks -- we'll make sure to keep everyone informed.

Don't forget this week's book study on Thursday night, Seismic Shifts. It looks like we'll have lots of folks out for the first time this week, so we'll work on chapters 1-3 rather than 4-6, adding a week to the length of our study, but giving everybody a chance to catch up.

Remember the puppet ministry that was highlighted two weeks ago in worship? If you have an interest in learning to be a puppeteer for our Sunday School program, contact Beverly Stone at pleasd2bme@yahoo.com . Youth age 6th grade or higher to adults are invited to volunteer.