Art and Nature

Photo by Laurie Collett 2024

On a recent day trip to St. Petersburg, Florida, my husband and I took an afternoon hike in the Boyd Park Nature Preserve. The trail wove through varying habitats including scrub forest where sunlight rays streamed through the pines, and bright meadows strewn with yellow and lavender flowers. Dragonflies with sparkling wings darted about, and a surprised snake slithered across the path.

Then we followed a boardwalk over marshy areas where tall, dark cypress trees hovered menacingly over cypress “knees,” or knobby roots that grew out of the water, resembling families of ghostly figures. A baby alligator languished in the stream, his eyes surveying the scene while most of his body remained hidden in the murky water.

Finally we arrived at the trail’s main feature – a deep, broad lake offering beautiful views and a home to many waterfowl, including a majestic blue heron striking a statuesque pose and graceful white egrets soaring upward on the wind. A white oystercatcher, with the distinctive tuft on its head, black legs with bright yellow stripes, and yellow feet, was fishing at the water’s edge. When it caught its prey, the rhythmic dance of its bobbing head and undulating neck as it swallowed was poetry in motion.

But what most caught our eye was a tall, silver metal sculpture beside the lake of an anhinga, or cormorant, an unusual black waterfowl that can’t fly when its wings are wet. After diving for its prey, it settles on a low tree limb or other perch with its wings spread, waiting patiently for them to dry. While in that state it is vulnerable to alligators or other predators that could pounce while the bird could not escape.

The sculptor Paul Eppling’s talent was evident not only in the accurate and beautiful depiction of the bird with its spread wings, made from scrap metal and discarded auto parts, but in how he placed it to enhance its natural setting and be enhanced by it. The sculpture seemed to change with each passing cloud or shimmer of the sun, reflecting new facets of its structure and surface.

As we gazed in awe, we were thrilled to see an actual cormorant land on the sculpture, which it chose as a perfect perch to dry out its wings! Not only did the beauty of the bird augment the visual impact of the artwork, but the sculpture now had a useful purpose in protecting the wildlife in the habitat it occupied. It was a comfortable and convenient place to rest, and I wondered if the sun’s rays reflecting off the metal might hasten drying of the wings and confuse or frighten predators.

I also pondered whether the anhinga realized it was resting on its likeness, and sought out the sculpture for that reason, like a person might pause when they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror? Or was it just a handy place to take a nap?

As human beings created in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27), are we attracted to His attributes? Do we seek to be more like Him each day? Once we are saved by trusting in the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:1-4) as the only Way to Heaven (John 14:6), do we allow His Holy Spirit to mold us into His image?

The sculptor used discarded junk to create this beautiful sculpture in the image of one of God’s creations. Many of the most renowned artistic masterpieces of all time have been directly inspired by nature, for the heavens declare His handiwork (Psalm 19:1). God, the supreme Artist and Creator, made man in His own image by breathing life into the dust of the ground (Genesis 2:7). He endowed us with free will, so we can choose to be like Him or to rebel.

The apostle Paul warns us not to be conformed to this world, but to be transformed by the renewing of our mind, so that God’s perfect will may be realized in us (Romans 12:2). This is possible only by yielding to the Holy Spirit as He guides us through the process of progressive sanctification, or becoming more holy. As we pray, study God’s Word, and follow His perfect plan for our lives, we become more like Him.

Others can then see God’s qualities reflected in and through us – His love, mercy, grace and wisdom. Jesus Christ no longer walks this earth in His glorified body, but sits at the right hand of God the Father (Hebrews 10:12). Until He comes again, we can be His representation in this world, to lead others closer to Him (Colossians 1:10; Matthew 5:16).

When we are at our most vulnerable, do we cling even closer to His virtues, understanding that His wisdom, power and love can strengthen and comfort us? Do we realize that we can access these by yielding to Him, for He has given us the mind of Christ?  (1 Corinthians 2:16; Romans 15:6).

In our Christian walk, sometimes God allows us a mountain top experience of soaring like eagles (Isaiah 40:31). But at other times, we find ourselves in the valley of despair (Psalm 23:4), our wings wet and our spirits dampened. At those times, our best option is to wait on the Lord to dry and strengthen our spiritual wings, so we can once again be in heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6) with Him!  

© 2024 Laurie Collett

 

Light In The Storm

 

Photo by Alvesgaspar2009

My heart is heavy today for all those affected by catastrophic Hurricane Helene, especially for those who lost loved ones. Our beach home, which inspired the post below (from the archives), has extensive damage, the extent of which is still unclear, just as we had finally completed repairs from Hurricane Ian, which struck nearly exactly two years ago.  But we thank God in all things (Ephesians 5:20), despite our loss and the far worse losses of our neighbors in Florida and northward. We thank Him for sparing our lives and home and the lives and homes of our loved ones, for the peace that passes all understanding (Phillipians 4:7), for the joy in His salvation (Psalm 35:9), and for the reassurance that He works all things together for our good and His glory (Romans 8:28). Prayers for all those affected by this devastating storm, for grace, strength, peace and comfort.

  

As my husband and I sat overlooking the beach while reading our morning devotionals, we could sense the storm brewing. The breeze was strengthening, allowing a pair of ospreys to soar effortlessly through the darkening sky. Waves lapping the shore began to

 chop and churn, and the usually pale blue, glassy sea became rough and darkened with deep purple blots like ink stains under the gathering clouds.

I spotted an unusual cloud formation that resembled a rocky cliff with a sharp drop-off, abutting what looked like an immense boulder. In the cleft between the boulder and the cliff was a human figure, huddled in a fetal position. Standing on the cliff was an angel with outstretched arms, as if protecting the person below.

As we watched the clouds change shape in the shifting winds, we witnessed an amazing transformation. The human figure looked up at the angel and straightened up, while still trapped between the cliff and the boulder. Although the angel began to recede into the distance, the sun’s rays, previously hidden, began to illuminate the human figure so that it shone brightly in the otherwise dark sky.

How often do we feel as if we’re trapped between a rock and a hard place? Like the psalmist David, who hid in caves as he fled for his life, we may feel like we’ve fallen into a pit (Psalm 40:2), a deep crevice flanked by impenetrable rock, and an impossibly long way up to safety. We can’t pull ourselves from it or climb out in our own strength, and we are reminded that God is our only hope (Psalm 38:15; 42:5,11; 71:5).

David wrote that the evils surrounding him and the consequences of his own sins were so great that he could not even look up, and his heart failed him. But God alone could save him through His tender mercies, loving kindness and truth, which continually preserved and delivered him (Psalm 40:11-17).

Praise God that He is our refuge in the storm, and that in our moments of deepest despair, He is with us, for He will never leave us nor forsake us! (Hebrews 13:5). He has not promised to remove us from our trials, for they accomplish His purpose for us in ways we cannot begin to understand, as they did with Job (Job 1:21).

God did not answer the apostle Paul’s repeated prayers to remove his thorn in the flesh, for His grace is sufficient in our trials and His strength is made perfect in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). His ways and thoughts are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:9), and we can have faith in His infinite love, power and wisdom to always work all things together for our good and His glory (Romans 8:28).

While still trapped in the rocks, the human figure in the clouds looked up, straightened up, and shone brightly. When in trouble, we should look up to the heavens, for God is the source of our help (Psalm 121:1). We must keep our eyes fixed on Jesus! He alone enables us to stand fast (1 Corinthians 16:13; Galatians 5:1; Philippians 1:27) and straight in the storm, and to shine brightly with His reflected light to be a beacon and encouragement to others (John 1:9; 8:12; Philippians 2:15).

Recently our Pastor has been preaching from Scripture verses that comfort us in times of trouble. There are no coincidences or accidents with God.

At the very time we were at the beach watching this majestic demonstration of His handiwork (Psalm 19:1-6; Romans 1:20), His Word spoke to us through the devotionals we were reading. One of these referenced Iguazu Falls, a stunning chain of 275 waterfalls in South America, bordered by a wall on which is inscribed the words “God is always greater than all our troubles,” under Psalm 93:4: The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.

The brightness of the human figure enfolded in the rocks also reminded me that in times of trouble, God hides (Psalm 32:7) and protects us within Himself, in His pavilion and in the secret of His tabernacle, and that He will set us upon a rock (Psalm 27:5). That Rock is the sure foundation (Luke 6:48; Matthew 16:18) of His Son Jesus Christ, Who saves and gives eternal life (John 3:16) to all who trust in His death, burial and resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:1-4) as the only Way to Heaven (John 14:6).

May we trust in Christ alone, and in His mercy, for He is our Rock, salvation, defense, glory, strength and refuge! (Psalm 62:5-8; 59:16-17; 94:22)

His protection and guidance from our enemies, threats and dangers (Psalm 32:8) enables us through faith to lift our head above these trials, to seek His face, offer sacrifices of joy and sing praises to Him (Psalm 27:6-8). Praise God that He is our refuge, strength, and very present help in trouble, so that we have no reason to fear even if the earth crumbles, the mountains explode and are carried into the roaring sea (Psalm 46:1-3).

Even in our darkest storms, may His light shine through us so that we can be a beacon of hope to a lost and dying world!

© 2017 Laurie Collett

Edited, expanded and reposted from the archives

A Time to Plant

Photo by Dragfyre 2011

Our church's Missions Conference this year reminds me that everyone is either a missionary or a mission field. If we are saved by trusting in the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ as the only Way to Heaven, He has commanded us to witness about Him to the unsaved, who are the mission field. This led me to repost the article below.

Romans 10: 13 For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. 14 How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?… 17 So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.

What’s your excuse for not witnessing? Mine is fear. Fear of rejection, of offending, even of not being politically correct. But love, even if human and therefore not perfect, should cast out fear (1 John 4:18).

We are told to plant the seeds of belief in Jesus (Matthew 28:19-20). But shouldn’t we also accept the responsibility of tilling the soil, watering the green shoots of faith, shedding light on the new growth, and tending it as it matures and bears fruit? What if we are the only gardener in one soul’s life, from sowing to harvest if we fulfill our mission (John 4: 34-38), or from sowing to withering if we fail?

In the first picture I saw of my foster child Sathit, he was a gaunt, solemn lad of 11, standing with his parents and younger sister before a fragile ornamental cherry tree in full bloom, in his native village in Thailand. He was an average student who liked to garden, or “to sprinkle plants in his leisure,” as the awkwardly translated letter put it.

My intentions were honorable. I had picked up a brochure at church and had decided to sponsor a foster child. But I failed him. I didn’t know then that I would commit the cruelest sin of omission possible (James 4:13-17).

The sponsoring organization had “Christian” in the name, so I naively assumed that my monthly monetary gift would provide Christian outreach, along with food, school supplies, and contributions to community projects such as better wells in Sathit’s village. Providing for physical needs is important, but securing our eternal future even more so (Matthew 6:31-33; 16:24-26).

Eventually, I learned that their resources were too limited for missionary services, but by then, it seemed unkind to withdraw my support. Despite the thousands of miles that separated us, I came to know and love Sathit from his letters, drawings, and progress reports.

As time went on, I also sponsored other children through Compassion International, another organization that does offer Christian teaching. It is never too early to nourish children in the Word of God (Mark 10:13-17; 2 Timothy 1:5; 3:14-17). Reading letters from these children telling me that they loved our Lord and Savior brought me great joy. Arakiados, from India, even drew me an awe-inspiring picture of Jesus, as if he had seen Him face to face (1 Corinthians 13:12).

But Sathit was not that blessed. I sent him Christmas cards, and I wrote him about Easter, about celebrating the resurrection of Jesus (Matthew 28:6-7) through which all believers can have eternal life (John 3:16; 1 Corinthians 15:1-4).

He wrote back about offering food to the monks in the temples and about Buddhist festivals: “I would like you to throw water on Songkran Festival in the province very much.”

I always wanted to tell him more, to share the Good News (Proverbs 25:25) that Jesus came to save sinners like all of us (Luke 19:10; Romans 3:23) and to reconcile us to Holy God through His shed blood (Romans 3:25; 1 John 2:2; 4:10). I wanted to prepare the way so that the Holy Spirit could convict him and so that he would be born again and welcome Jesus into his heart (John 3:3-8; Romans 10:9-10).

But I was still a babe in Christ (1 Corinthians 3:1), and I failed to do this. After all, I reasoned wrongly, Sathit lived in a Buddhist family and attended a Buddhist school, and I didn’t want to complicate his relationship with his parents or make trouble for him with his teachers or classmates (Matthew 10:34-40).

Anyway, he was growing up so fast, and now that he was a young man of 16, perhaps his circle of friends would widen. I hoped he would travel outside his village and learn about other cultures and beliefs. I thought others would germinate the seeds of Christian faith I had sparingly scattered across his path (2 Corinthians 9:6; 1 Corinthians 3: 5-11).

Sadly, I thought about it too little and too late (2 Corinthians 6:2). A letter from the sponsoring organization notified me of an emergency situation – could I please call for more information? My prayers in those 12 hours before the office opened were for the problem to have a solution, even if difficult – crop failure, housing destroyed in a storm, even illness in the family. Surely I could help somehow. After all, with Christ, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).

But without Christ, there is no hope (Ephesians 2:12-19; Romans 5). I learned that Sathit was riding a motorbike when a pedestrian darted across the road. Sathit swerved to avoid him, crashed into a tree, and died instantly. His young life was plucked up before it even had time to take root.

“Well, at least he’s in Heaven now,” well-meaning friends said upon hearing the news. How I wished that were true. How I wished I had another chance to make a difference, to tell him how he could be saved.

Had I know Sathit had so little time (James 4:14) to make the most important decision of his life – to choose where he would spend eternity – would I have been less afraid, more persistent, more committed? (Galatians 6:9) Would I have given him the Word of Life (John 6:63-68) instead of speaking idle words (Matthew 12:36), for which I will have to give an account to Jesus at the judgment seat? (1 Corinthians 3: 10-15; 2 Corinthians 5:10)

May God help me to remember Sathit every time He gives me an opportunity to witness, to nurture the growth of belief in Jesus. For many souls we meet, we may be the only gardener they’ll ever have.

John 14:6 Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

© 2003 Laurie Collett

Edited and reposted from the archives

 

Tenacity

 

                                                                                

photo by Laurie Collett 2024

Experts in child development have said that very young children do not particularly enjoy magic tricks because they view everything around them as magical. The sun appears every morning, only to disappear every evening, replacing the golden gleam of the day with the black velvet of the night sky, bejeweled with countless tiny diamonds.

Adults, on the other hand, can become jaded, failing to see the miracles occurring in our daily lives, or dismissing them as merely the predictable outcome of scientific principles, and of reactions involving matter and energy. We therefore are more likely to appreciate magic shows, in which our beliefs about reality seem to be challenged in ways that surprise and amaze us.

I enjoy a good magic show as one of many forms of entertainment, particularly if it is performed with artistry and storytelling. But when I want to see a miracle evolving before my eyes, I am blessed that I don’t have to fly to Las Vegas and pay top dollar to see a first-rate magician. Rather, I can just make a quick visit to the hydroponic garden in our laundry room!

God’s creation is miraculous indeed, far surpassing any illusion or sleight-of-hand we might experience in a theatre! How a tiny seed can contain the genetic blueprint for a complex plant, and then quickly develop into that plant when exposed to water, light, and a few nutrients, baffles the imagination. But with God, all things are possible! (Matthew 19:26).

The Lord Jesus Christ created plants and all things by the Word of His mouth (Genesis 1). He is the Living Water (John 4:10), the Light of the world (John 8:12; 9:5), and the Bread of Life (John 6:35,48), providing all that plants need to grow, and all that we need to grow as Christians, who have trusted in His death, burial and resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:1-4) as the only Way to Heaven (John 14:6).

My most recent planting includes cucumbers, which astound me with their tenacity in accomplishing their God-given purpose. They germinate quickly, even when planted upside down! In that case, the young shoot still pushes up defiantly from its porous support, often sporting the remains of the seed coating like a jaunty cap!

They develop rapidly, first two undifferentiated primary leaves, then two secondary leaves that grow into mature, prickly cucumber leaves. Then lovely yellow flowers tilt their faces toward the light, and as these dry up, a green, fuzzy bump appears and soon elongates into an immature cucumber.

Meanwhile, thin tendrils spiral outward from the main stem, fanning out in all directions looking for something to support them. In my hydroponic garden, where various plants occupy neighboring pods, the cucumbers need constant close supervision!

Left unchecked, the curly, sticky ends of the tendrils loop themselves around whatever happens to be nearby – a lettuce leaf, a radish stem, the electric cords supplying the lights, or even the lights themselves. I marvel at their tenacity in wrapping so tightly around their neighbors, but I have to step in and untangle them, freeing the other plants and training the cucumber tendrils around a more suitable support, such as the pipes housing the hydroponic pods.

Such tenacity is widespread throughout God’s creation. In the two years since Hurricane Ian, it is reassuring to see the destroyed vegetation rebounding at our favorite beach getaway. Tall, lush Norfolk Island pine trees that once seemed to brush against the ceiling of heaven were felled to the ground by nearly 200 mph gales, leaving only jagged, ugly stumps. But these have gradually started to grow again, not nearly as tall, but at least graced with pine boughs.

A pair of osprey had nested there for many years, only to disappear after Ian when their home was destroyed. But recently, I have heard their plaintive cry near their former nest, and on our most recent trip, I saw a female perched near the top of the regrowing tree, while her mate circled lazily in the skies above. Thanks to their resilience and tenacity, chicks will follow soon, in the same neighborhood, if not the same nest that Ian destroyed.

It reminds me that God also endowed each of His children with a resolve to accomplish His unique purpose for their lives. Like the cucumbers, we too can be tenacious in clinging to various supports, some of which are more suitable than others. Do we attempt to succeed by being overly reliant on our neighbors, like the lettuce and radishes planted near the cucumbers? If so, are we perhaps inadvertently choking off their growth and not advancing our own?    

What happens when our comfort zone suddenly disappears, like the osprey nest washed away in the storm? Or even worse, when our entire support system crumbles, like the pine trees razed to the ground? Do we turn away from God and blame Him for our upheaval, or do we draw closer to Him in prayer and in His Word, relying on Him to sustain us no matter what our external circumstances?

Sometimes God removes not only our blessings, but what we believe we need to survive. Job lost his wealth, family, and health, all in short order, yet he never cursed God (Job 2:9-10). In turn, God rewarded His faithfulness by restoring to him what he had lost and doubling his material wealth (Job 42:10).

Noah preached to mockers for nearly a century, following God’s command to build an ark to withstand a global flood coming to an earth that had never experienced rain, and God rewarded him and his family by saving them from the deluge and appointing them to restart the human race (Genesis 5:32-10:1).

Moses graciously accepted God’s “time out,” spending years tending sheep in the desert until God used him to lead His people out of Egypt (Exodus 3) and to the Promised Land – a journey that would take four decades of governing a stubborn, rebellious, complaining people (Joshua 5:6).

David also spent his youth tending sheep, perhaps wondering if God would ever use the gifts He gave him of courage, leadership, music and poetry. Not only did God make David chief musician to King Saul and ultimately King himself (1 Samuel 16), but He allowed him to establish his house as perpetual ruler over Israel (Jeremiah 33:17; 1 Kings 2:45), which in the Millennial Kingdom will culminate in the Lord Jesus Christ Himself (Luke 1:32).

The tenacity of all these heroes of the faith (Hebrews 11) is surpassed only by that of our Lord and Savior, Who left His heavenly throne and came to earth as human flesh (John 1:14), knowing that He was born to die to be the perfect sacrifice for our sins, reconciling sinful man to Holy God (John 1:29). He resisted every temptation that humanity has ever encountered, yet without sin (Hebrews 4:15). He endured rejection by His own people, mockery from the religious leaders of His day, betrayal by His closest friends, and humiliation and physical suffering at the hands of those He came to save (Matthew 26-27).

Worst of all, Jesus Christ endured momentary separation from His Holy Father as He became sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21). He tenaciously set His face like a flint (Isaiah 50:7) as He viewed Jerusalem, where He would be sacrificed as a Lamb led to the slaughter (Isaiah 53:7). He endured the cross, despising the shame, for the joy of bringing salvation and eternal life to all who trusted Him (Hebrews 12:2). 

May we follow His example of tenacity, clinging not to our possessions, status, or power, or even to our health and relationships, but in putting our complete faith in and reliance on Almighty God, Who alone can save, sustain, restore and redeem us!

© 2024 Laurie Collett