Breathless Haste

I remember well that first seminary intensive during the winter in Minnesota. Rebecca remembers it well too, as a large storm hit while I was away, and she was left shoveling snow in the driveway alone. Under her breath, she muttered to the world, “Don’t people know that you don’t have to live like this?” Meanwhile, I was trying to dig my way through a systematic theology class. I was also feeling overwhelmed, but my concern was with theological concepts. I felt that there was no way I could take it all in and reconcile it in my mind. During a break, I stood looking out a window as huge flakes of snow fell toward the ground. I vividly remember watching a tree gradually being covered in snow. There was a crook in the tree where the snow was collecting. While most fell to the ground, some were caught by the shape of the tree. As I watched the snow accumulating in the crook of the tree, God used that image as a moment of assurance. I felt as if I were standing in a blizzard of theological concepts, but that all I needed would stick and provide nourishment. I could rest in that picture. I have always sensed God’s presence through nature, and I believe He speaks to us through His good creation, using it to lead us by still waters and restore our souls.