In the heavy heat of July, the sycamores surrendered their mottled hides and cluttered the slope down to the pond with jumbo puzzle pieces of bark. The fabulous array of curious shapes was strewn on the path, over fence rungs and adorning bushes. Some, hanging in long strips from trunks and branches, waited on a summer storm to release them to the mossy bed.
I meandered the shade among the giants and couldn’t help but be distracted by this new cast of characters. A few found their way to my hands and I examined them as I walked, so substantial and interesting.
Next day, I went with a paper bag and filled it with this stuff of inspiration. Surely one could frame these, or something. The bag sat untouched in my office for weeks until one day a huge black spider appeared on the ceiling above it. After wrangling that into submission, I grabbed the bag, ran out of the house and deposited it in the trash can.
Strangely, I felt regret over these stolen pieces. I had turned the sycamores’ elegant strokes, their abstract art installment, into nothing but rubbish. How presumptuous, to think I might improve on the Creator Himself. Well, no, I don’t really believe He would mind if I relocated a few pieces of tree bark, or used them to create something beautiful to my eye. There was just a truth in this I needed to see.
It is good and wise to confess the supremacy of God in each and every endeavor, to be humble in each and every way. In this way I am able to seize the charge of His calling on my own life and mindfully leave the spider and the sycamore to do the same.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8
Meeting God at the Park 