There are days when the world becomes too much. Traffic is congested, people and electronics vie for my attention, finances are overwhelming, and our home is a mess. All of it combines to form one massive noise that pounds against my head, weighing down my soul and threatening to pulverize my spirit.
It’s easy to lose sight of God in all this busyness. Though He continues to abide beside me, whispering and guiding, my soul becomes parched—I long to hear His voice more clearly, to feel His presence more tangibly.
It is then I must go to the wilderness, to seek God in the quiet beauty of His creation.
This was easy when I was younger. Raised in the country, I only had to step out my front door to experience all the glory and wonder our Creator puts on display through nature.
I would walk partially down our gravel driveway, turn onto a grass path that navigated the soybean fields, then follow it into the forest and down a steep hill to the river. When the water was low, it revealed a rocky peninsula where I would sit for hours, listening to the birds and the water as I wrote and prayed.
There, surrounded by so much of the beauty of my Heavenly Father, I was able to recharge. For this reason, I have always been attracted to the outdoors—to rushing waters, warm sunshine, and mysterious forests.
Nature is the beauty and glory of God on display; it’s where I’ve always been able to find Him, without fail.
These days, I don’t have access to the fields and forests of my youth. Maple and Boxwood trees have been traded for towering forests of Cedar and Pine, fields for rolling hills and majestic mountains.
My world is bigger now, and instead of simply stepping out into nature, I must actively seek it by traveling miles away. Needless to say, this doesn’t happen every day.
The transition was difficult, at first. My soul was thirsty and confused, wanting to run undaunted down the grassy paths of my childhood. But when I opened my front door, there was only the RV park, the highway, and the city beyond.
It took some time for me to realize that God was using this new setting as a teaching aid. My lesson: to hear Him better in all the noise of life, and be more intentional in my relationship with Him.
Instead of running away from busyness into a wooded world, I’ve learned to better control my surroundings.
I put down the cell phone, stop worrying about finances, and put off cleaning to focus on Him. As I go about my day, I expect to hear from Him; and in the expecting, I do.
Don’t get me wrong—this is still a learning process. There are days where I go without listening for Him, without seeking out His voice. And on those days, my soul suffers, shriveling up as it bakes under the heat and pressure of this fast-paced world. But now I’m better at understanding when this is happening, and am able to submerge myself in the cool, living waters my soul so desperately needs.
Yet, no matter how intentional I become, or how much I grow spiritually—the woods and fields, hills and mountains will always be the best places for me to meet Him, and listen for His voice.
Meeting God in nature is the closest I’ll get to Home on this great journey.
Hannah Roehrick 