I found myself sitting second to last in a queue of cars trickling down a mountain pass. We cut through thick forests rich with Birch and Fir trees, where day old snow lazily laid itself out on branches, and thick patches covered the ground.
I reached for the knob and turned up the stereo. Ugly Casanova flooded the cold air around me and set the mood for the rest of my journey home.
Slowly I started to realize the beauty around me, as if someone was steadily removing a vail from my eyes. The trees were so big and wise and pronounced, and they dwarfed the cars in front of me. Their tops swayed gently in a breeze no less than 60 feet above me, and here I was, enclosed in a fortress of metal, plastic, and vinyl leather, descending down a mountain pass, worried about what I’d eat for dinner.
It’s funny to me how I can get so wrapped up in the little bits of life that I forget how insignificant I am when compared to something as beautiful as a quiet forest in the heart of winter.
I often don’t understand what God finds in us humans. How He finds us more important than giant trees, grandiose mountain ranges, or roaring rivers. I get frustrated with Him for choosing humans over nature sometimes, because I feel like I now have something to prove, where as nature can just be.
But then I hear it. A quiet voice floating in the breeze, blowing across the grass and through the woods. A voice that lets me know it’s ok. That I don’t have to worry about being the smartest, the fastest, or the most successful. I can be like nature, and enjoy what’s around me, taking the seasons as they come, and everything will work out in the end because He is good and in my insignificance, I am more significant than a tree in His eyes.