Drawing Closer to God in Nature

The past year has been quite a struggle in many ways, and I’d like to say I’ve learned a lot in the process. Truthfully, it’s probably too soon to tell. Between working from home full-time, dealing with the stress of the pandemic, processing my anxiety and past trauma in therapy, and ensuring the stock of ice cream in the freezer never runs out, I’m not sure yet how, exactly, I will grow out of all this. But one thing this year has taught me is to pay more attention to the world around me. I’ve learned (am learning) to slow down, notice nature’s rhythm, track the budding of flowers and falling of leaves. I’ve been learning the peace being in the natural world can bring.

I’ve probably spent more time outside this year than any other year I’ve lived in Michigan. Doing more outdoor activities has mostly been to make safe decisions while we wait for a vaccine, but it has quickly become more than just a substitute for indoor activities. My husband and I have explored many of the parks around the city, hiked new trails, eaten takeout in empty fields, and explored all the walkable streets surrounding our apartment. When we spend time outside, inevitably we say to one another, “We are so blessed.”

Stepping out of our workaday environment and spending time in nature has been life-giving, filling me with a sense of gratitude that is difficult for me to feel when I doom-scroll on Twitter or read the latest news headlines.

During my walks, I witnessed the seasonal changes in a local beaver dam: how it grew gradually larger in spring, only to slowly sink into the swamp in the fall, signaling the moving on of its builder. I made enemies with the not-so-friendly neighborhood red-winged blackbird, who never failed to swoop at my head during the spring as he protected his nest. I listened to the frogs noisily wake up as the ground thawed, growing silent again as it froze. And I’ve noticed more about myself, how my energy comes and goes, rising high in warm seasons and hibernating somewhere deep for the winter.

I’ve found that I feel most spiritual when I’m out of my human-built world and wandering away from the highways and pavement and emails telling me about the best sale ever and how I’d better not miss it. Something about enjoying nature strengthens my faith.

As someone who has struggled after spiritual abuse to find spiritual comfort and peace in the more “traditional” practices of church and devotions, I feel closest to God when I can escape the negative voices that have spoken into my life and walk among the ever-growing forests and marshes and lakeshore. I have never experienced such peace and calm as when I am alone outside, the buzz of highway traffic fading as I pay closer attention to the hum of insects, the different calls of the blackbirds, the direction the water is moving, the feeling of the ground under my feet, whether it is frozen or starting to thaw. Time spent in nature has been soul-restoring:

“The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures;

he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul.” (Ps. 23:1–3 NRSV)

In nature, I’m often struck by the way wildlife carries on. Here we humans are with our struggles and politics and grievances, and the chipmunk next door is minding his own business, scrounging around for food. The birds on the lake float on the water, taking their time before flying away again. They do not rush around, and somehow that helps me to stop rushing, too. I grow quiet and enjoy the present moment, instead of focusing on the past or the future.

When I say that my time spent outdoors this year has been a blessing, in no way do I want to downplay the pandemic, the enormous loss of life, or the economic and health struggles of people this year. It would be cruel to think that my escapes into the woods somehow make all of it okay, as if all’s right in the world. I recognize how complex human life is, how our lives are full of so much grief, along with joy. Going on a nature walk won’t fix the problems we face. Being outside isn’t a cure-all.

Instead, spending time in nature has simply helped me to cope. I feel like my experiences, both positive and negative, are more integrated when I spend time listening to nothing but the wind and the birds. I am better able to piece through my scrambled emotions, line up my thoughts, and deal with the day’s work, whatever that may be. I feel more able to deal with my own anxiety, which leaves me more equipped to encourage others, notice their needs, and reach out with a listening ear or helping hand.

I’m not the only one who thinks nature is a great way to help deal with stress. Researchers in ecotherapy have been studying the link between nature and environment, finding “a strong connection between time spent in nature and reduced stress, anxiety, and depression.” Breathing fresh air, getting a dose of sunshine, exercising, and seeing green life are all beneficial to our brains, attitudes, and overall health. I can attest to it.

As we live in different places, we may have very different kinds of access to nature and the outdoors. Some of us might not have the ability to take walks or have much time to be alone outside. But I think we can learn new ways of thinking creatively in our situations. Maybe nature for you means growing house plants or taking care of a pet. Maybe it means listening to nature-sounds audio to calm you or using a sunlight lamp to imitate the real thing if you (like me) live in a northern climate with little to no sunshine during the winter.

Whatever it may be, I hope you tap into this beautiful way to find some peace in the chaos, to walk with God in this struggling hot mess of our lives. May you find yourself closer to God in nature, noticing the small things, riding the rhythms of the seasons. May you be blessed with sunshine and gentle breezes, the scent of lilacs, and the stillness of a wild forest.

Cait West is a writer, reader, and publishing professional who lives with her husband in Grand Rapids, Michigan. After leaving the stay-at-home-daughter movement, she started over by studying creative writing at Michigan State University, working in education and literacy, and eventually finding her way to an editorial position in book publishing. Find her at caitwest.com and on Instagram and Twitter at @caitwestwrites.

Photograph © Allef Vinicius, used with permission