Finding God in the Forest

Being Active to Be Still

Psalm 46: 10 tells us to “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the Earth.” This well-known verse hits me hard when I’m in the woods. However, in the woodlands, I am not usually standing still, but walking, stooping, inspecting, or looking up.

Nevertheless, the trees are always still, and they tell me so clearly that God is God and that he is exalted throughout the Earth. I feel the presence of my creator the strongest among the stillness and quiet of the forest. Trees are so much taller than us. They withstand storms and make homes for wildlife. Their size always makes me feel small, but also important to the God that created us both.

I feel the presence of my creator the strongest among the stillness and quiet of the forest.

Towering California Redwoods: This is Church

Five years ago, before the world stood still for the pandemic, and before travel seemed so far off, my family visited California. It was a five-hour flight, and our son was five years old. We flew into LA and drove north 13 hours along the beautiful views of Highway One on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, to the quiet town of Crescent City. We made this long trek to be among redwood trees. Our family of three hiked every day and spent most of our time in the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park.

I knew that the towering trees would be awe-inspiring, and I also knew that God would meet me there. But, I didn’t know that five years later, I would feel like those hikes were last week. The smell of the evergreen trees and the cool air in the forest feels like a recent memory. There was an afternoon we hiked along a stream and wondered at bright yellow banana slugs. But the most memorable part of that California visit for me was, of course, the soaring trees. I kept saying to myself, “This is church.”

Short Ohio Trees and Stream Restoration

When I worked in stream restoration, I took water samples nearly weekly and spent long days outside, along polluted streams that ran orange, and in disturbed forests that were strewn with piles of coal refuse. The watershed where I worked was polluted by acid mine drainage, a legacy of abandoned mine lands. In the summer, the days were hot and sweaty with worries about ticks, and winter days were cold and covered in restrictive, heavy Carhart gear.

I didn’t realize how much I would crave those required outdoor days years later. I remember so well waiting for equipment to calibrate while a coworker was taking a water sample around the bend, and saying a prayer of thanksgiving to God for the nature around me, even if it was disturbed.