Discovering Allegories of Truth in Nature
By MANDY SAELER
Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and how inscrutable His ways! … For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen.
Romans 11:33, 36 ESV
The late afternoon sun shone joyfully as I hovered over my garden starter trays, seeds cradled in the palm of my hand. It was one of those birth-of-spring days when summer-lovers like me are unwittingly taken by daydreams of summertime dancing through our minds, seemingly gaining momentum with each passing glitter of sunlight.
It’s been said that to plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow, and so plant I did as I hoped for the summer days to come. Already, I couldn’t help but to adoringly anticipate those fruitful days when these mysterious flecks and specks in my hand would turn into shrubby herbs to sip and savor. Chamomile, stevia, lemon balm, echinacea, and more for my “tea herbs.” And a variety of oregano, basil, cilantro, and others for my “cooking herbs.”
Proceeding to sow seeds into the marked rows, I thought of the boundless potential housed in their unsuspecting frames. As unpredictable gusts of wind bellowed over my shoulder and threatened to carry my precious seeds away, I tightly cupped my hand and drew them close to my chest. Ever so carefully, I placed each seed in the hollowed soil spot and gingerly brushed the crumbs of dirt back into place to protect my tiny investment.
That afternoon, the winds channeled my daydreams from golden summertime to pondering the parable of the sower that Jesus told. There were seeds that fell here and there, but did not last. And there were even the seeds that grew quickly with joy, but did not last in the heat of the sun.
“Listen! Behold, a sower went out to sow. And it happened, as he sowed, that some seed fell by the wayside; and the birds of the air came and devoured it. Some fell on stony ground, where it did not have much earth; and immediately it sprang up because it had no depth of earth. But when the sun was up it was scorched, and because it had no root it withered away. And some seed fell among thorns; and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no crop. But other seed fell on good ground and yielded a crop that sprang up, increased and produced: some thirtyfold, some sixty, and some a hundred.” And He said to them, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear!” // Mark 4:3–9
As I placed each seed I longed for these seeds to be planted in good soil, and to receive the nurturing sunlight and moisture that they would need to become fully mature and fit for their good purpose. And even more, I longed for my heart to be a garden of good soil for my Lord. Day by day, I want to receive all that He has for me and be shaped by His Word into a woman that reflects His Life as He intends.
As I thought of these seeds as seeds of truth, I considered the carefulness and kindness of the Gardener of my heart. I imagined how intentionally He arranges each Word of Truth and sets it in its prepared place. How He shields them from the wind that would carry them away, how He hollows out an intentional place to nestle that truth so it can yield “a crop — a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown” (Matt. 13:8 NIV). Would I be a willing and intentional participant of His work in my own soul? Would the ground of my heart be readied and attentive to the working of my Lord? Would I embrace the treasures of His Words of Truth that He desired to sow in me?
Gardener of my heart — may it be so! For, “‘…The seed is the word of God … the ones that fell on the good ground are those who, having heard the word with a noble and good heart, keep it and bear fruit with patience’” (Luke 8:11, 15).
Right there on sunporch stairs, gusty spring breezes interrupted my summertime daydreams in the best way possible, delivering precious whispers in the wind. Whispers of truth, turning my heart to once again ponder the heart of the One who speaks in the whisper, if we only have ears to hear.
Stepping outside and away from the busyness of life is often a time when my heart is quieted and my mind turns heavenward. Sometimes, it’s to simply talk with the Lord. Other times to walk in stillness. And yet other times, the Spirit of God has encouraged me with allegories of truth in what I see, hear, and experience around me. In the pages that follow, I hope your heart will also be directed to your Heavenly Father through these allegories of truth I have beheld in nature. May we see and savor His creation — not just with eyesight, but with heartsight.
Sink deep roots
The Fallen Tree
The ruthless winds of a powerful storm had passed through our region, wreaking havoc on land and homes alike. As I walked through the woods one day after that storm, I happened upon a large and seemingly healthy tree that had fallen. It took me by surprise to see probably 50 or more years of growth so quickly fallen and cut off from any hope of life in the days to come.
The tree had even been nestled along a creek, and I thought to myself, Rich soil, sunlight, and ready water — what more could a tree need to thrive? And yet, there it lay. But there’s always more than meets the eye at an initial glance. Closer observation disclosed why it was that this tree was susceptible to the winds. The web of roots that had been upturned by the wind revealed a tangle of surprisingly small and shallow roots for a tree of this size.
It caused me to wonder … Had the tree’s comfortable proximity to water led to its devastation in the long run? The roots of the tree did not have to run deep and wide to find water … and so … they didn’t. The tree hadn’t experienced drought — so in the storm it didn’t have strength to remain.
From our earthly, human perspective — you never would have known it by simply looking at the tree — it was healthy, beautiful, and towering. And yet, when the rain came and the winds blew, the foundation of this tree couldn’t stand.
And so, Lord, would You send the roots of our faith deep? Even if it means experiencing drought and wind and peril to drive them? May we take heart and faith-filled joy in desert seasons where our faith is forged in ways more precious than perhaps we will ever realize.
The fallen tree taught my heart to view the dry seasons in my past, and the future ones I will certainly encounter, with a newfound appreciation as I trust the wise, all-knowing ways of my God. For the drought that parches is working in us an eternal weight of glory, rooted in the Kingdom that will never be shaken.
Take Courage
The Apple Orchard
Driving past an apple orchard in the early spring, the freshly pruned apple trees tugged at my heart. The barren branches swung low and wide, while the entire crown of the tree had been mercilessly severed. This “pruning” had left a strange halo of intermingled branches on top of a tree trunk. Truthfully, it was a sore sight — a painful grimace filled my expression as I took in the unsightly orchard.
Understanding the nature of pruning, I knew that this had to be in the tree’s best interest and for the coming harvest months from now. Counterintuitively — pruning yields vitality and fruitfulness. Pruning requires faith that good will be brought about in time.
Driving past the orchard that day, it brought to mind a time in my own life that God had done His pruning. It was so significant that the awkward apple trees I was looking at reminded me of how keenly I had felt the uncomfortable, unsightly pruning in my life. Now in retrospect, I freshly considered the value of the lessons learned in my life’s greatest pruning — of patiently enduring severing and silence. And how these things bring us to a place of leaning only on Him. Discouragement and bitterness and doubt may come to mock the pruned trees, yet the evergreen assignment for the believer is to take courage and to not lose heart, nor become hardened in heart. And to endure the pruning and silent seasons with surrender, trust, and hope — emerging spiritually resilient with relentless faith — even before our eyes have seen the harvest. While some harvests are visible here on earth, I am convinced that some harvests may only be revealed in the eternal tapestry of God’s masterful working and wisdom. Will we trust Him even when we don’t understand or when we don’t get to reap a tangible harvest?
Pruning is a test of faith, and yet, it could be considered a small thing in comparison to the grand vision of the Gardener when He all-knowingly severs for our highest, heavenly good. May we hear and hold to His Word and “with a noble and good heart, keep it and bear fruit with patience” (Luke 8:15).
True Beauty
The Peony Bush
There’s something about a blushing, frilly peony that is one of my favorite early summer beauties to enjoy. As the peony bush comes into bloom, ring upon ring of pink petals and fragrance emerge! Glorious as these fluffy, pink flowers are, I’ve thought it curious that the hearty flower stalks do not hold the flower upwards to reach toward the sun. Instead, the weight of that glorious bloom causes the stalks to bend low, sometimes even grazing the grass below.
On one particular summer afternoon, as I clipped the soft blooms to fill vases around the house and others to share with friends, I wondered at the prolific beauty bending to the ground. In the light of the daytime sun, a ray of truth was conveyed to my heart: true beauty bends.
And I thought of Jesus.
Jesus, the Beautiful One, was bent before the Father. In submission, He walked the plan His Father had scripted — a plan marked by sacrifice, lowliness, humiliation, and sheer earthiness. The One who knew Heaven as His home and was present at the creation of all things — had humbled Himself to live among men of dust upon the dust of earth.
I thought again about another time when Jesus was bent at the knees to wash the feet of those around Him. Taking the lowest place, without applause, and without acknowledgement of His heavenly fame — He did the work of a servant.
And yet another time, Jesus was bent to the Father and in stature as He carried His Cross to Calvary. He wore the shame and reproach that was rightfully ours, and received our punishment. The Lamb of God was the atoning sacrifice for sinners. Through His life and actions, Jesus demonstrated the divine expression of love. He poured out His life for the eternal good of all mankind.
In all its blooming glory, the peony bush reminded me that true beauty bends. Jesus, the Beautiful One, was bent. And it is in this same way that His love and beautiful presence flows into and through our lives — in surrender before the Father and in pouring out our lives for others.
Treasuring His Truth
It has been in my adult years that I’ve come to treasure God’s creation with my spiritual heart … the poetry of the seasons, the hymns of living things, and the allegories of truth … all of which direct my heart back to Him. Time and again, the truth conveyed has been a great source of comfort, strength, and joy.
May these simple pictures of truth in nature inspire us towards deeper surrender, compel in us a renewed trust, and even spring up a heavenly joy as we ponder the wonder of His ways. And may you be inspired to see Him all around you and in everything, too.
Father, may our hearts be ready soil for seeds of Your Word, and may our ears be attuned to hear Your “whispers in the wind” all throughout our days. Draw our hearts to You.
This article was originally published in Issue 43.
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