I was walking along the path between the camp and my brother’s house. My brother and I made this trail when we were children, wanting a quick way to Grandma’s on Saturday morning for cartoons. It is thin and twisty and scattered with broken pine needles. As it snakes through the forest, the path brought me near these beauties.
As I was snapping photos, it occurred to me that this was but a small sampling of the wildflowers that carpeted our forest. I had the privileged of viewing these particular flowers, because they happened to be growing near a path. But what of all the others? Were the unseen blossoms any less marvelous because they bloomed in the dark recesses of the woods, far from the tromp of human feet? Of course not. Just the knowledge that they exist, scattered all through the pine-scented woods thrilled my heart.
Isn’t God like this? We see a bit of Him, because the path we are on happens to brush up against some of His glory. But the thrilling thing is knowing that there is so much more of Him. Glory upon glory upon glory, that we have yet to encounter. Like wildflowers that carpet the wilderness, alone and unsung, but all the more lovely for their quiet splendor.
The forest shows me something of God, every time I step out, breathe deep, and pause long enough to actually see. This is what we hope for the campers who will rush through our doors this summer. That they will be granted a moment to bump up against God. Maybe it will be in chapel time, or while reading the Bible with their counselor, during game time, midnight hike, or simply as they walk the path from their cabin down to the dinning hall.
God is here, but we must pause and take Him in. We must let go and let Him take charge of us and do His mighty works. God is vast and God is quiet, like wildflowers hidden in the wilderness.