The living God has revealed Himself in a general way in all that He has created.  So much so, that the apostle Paul said that His attributes are clearly seen (Romans 1:20).  If we have eyes to look for it, its self-evident nature can be experienced, especially in the spring-so brim full of everything coming back to life. 

Colonial preacher Jonathan Edwards was particularly attuned to the glories of God revealed in nature.  Though young as he was growing into adulthood, Edwards wrote a fascinating essay on the habits of a particular specie of spider and their inherent characteristics given to them by their Creator to reflect Him.

I walk five or six mornings a week.  It has a two-fold objective.  One, I push back against caloric intake.  But secondly, and more importantly, I pray as I walk.  If I do not give morning priority to that block of time, the day will be spent and my prayer life will take a hit.  If we let it, everything about the day will hit us in the face and beg for our attention. 

I have always loved what was said of Enoch in his walking with God (Genesis 5:24).  There is a sweetness to speaking to our Lord in the glorious mystery of prayer.  He is listening.  Jesus reduced all possibilities to two.  According to Jesus, it is praying or fainting; one or the other.  Do you have a sense that anyone is fainting in western culture right now?  I am convinced that Jesus has some insight.

In the dark the other morning, in the midst of my routine walk along the same streets, I was accosted by a goose.  Now, that is not uncommon, but this encounter was unique.  I did not see him at first and walked up close to him as he lay next to the sidewalk.  He took umbrage.  Now I am used to goose umbrage.  You know it too.  A few honks, a flap of the wings, a moseying along, and after some loud hissing, sent on his way.  But not this morning. 

The alpha goose got off his haunches, stood erect and flexed his wings as if to take off.  Unmindful of his dispute, I continued walking forward.  Indignantly, he charged me.  Now I was on to him.  I charged back, the traditional chicken game remedy.  He did not back off and took flight for my head with a loud hiss.  Startled, I swung my arms in dispute and took an upper cut at his head.  He veered off and stood his ground.  I continued walking, and round two was on.  This time, as he dove for my head, I removed my hat and threw it at him and he veered away…only to land next to my hat and guard it as his own.  Finally, I was able to distract him and retrieve the prized hat.  When I came back down the hill, next to the two retention ponds, he had his eyes on me the whole time.  I returned the compliment. 

At first, I thought it was a one-off crazy goose.  But then, I noticed his wife up in the neighbors landscaping, incubating their family and awaiting the hatching.  Now I am on to them.  She never takes her eyes off of me as I walk by.  Rain or shine, she selflessly has not moved in days caring for those eggs.  The Mr. is still across the street.  He is continuing to monitor all activity and the slightest veer toward the Mrs. and her nest will raise his ire.  I get it now.  I get the picture.  I understand.  But there is more going on for me than the geese.

The love those two have for their goslings is amazing.  They jealously guard the fortunes of their children with a selflessness that is admirable.  It is a glorious picture.  It is the love of God for His children played out in the habits of one of God’s creatures.  God nurtures us forward to birth and provides for our sustenance.  God guards us, even in ways unconscious to us, and fends off would be threats.  How deep the Father’s love for us! 

Paul prays in Ephesians (3:14-21) that God would give us a sense of how wide and high and deep is the love of God for us in Jesus Christ.  It is a love that is constant, sufficient, enlivening, protective, and infinite. 

We think too little of the cross of Jesus Christ.  Paul’s shorthand is perfect, “He loved us and gave Himself for us.” (Ephesians 5:2).  Jesus noted that there is not greater love (John 15:13).  It would be only after the cross that the disciples got the full import of what He was saying. 

God is for us.  He spared nothing to save us (Romans 8:32).  He could not love us more.  In His love, he advocates for us.  He shields us from harm.  He gives up Himself.  He is out there keeping us from evil and harm.  What a refuge!  Sure, we yet experience the brunt edge of this broken world.  But, he too suffered, and that for us. 

In the 1730s, Sarah Edwards, Jonathan’s wife, noted while preoccupied in thought about God’s love for her, a mote of dust basking in a ray of sun coming through the curtain into the room.  Have you seen such motes dancing in the sunlight?  As she watched that speck of dust twist and turn like DNA in midair as it is driven by the currents in the room in the midst of the intruding sunlight, she noted that she was the mote, experiencing the sunlight of God’s love at such a deep level that her life was flooded with God and His love as she swan in the endless current of these delights. 

Not all wild goose chases end in the same place.  But as I walked by today on this cold morning and observed the Mrs. on the nest closely monitoring my pass as I also noticed the Mr. checking me out again and sizing up round three, I thought of what God embedded in nature about His love for His own.  His love shows up in the instinct of the geese who care for their own.  O, yes, He cares…for His own.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  The Bible tells me so, and the geese say, “Amen, it is true!”