What Nature Taught Me
Just What My Soul Needed
CONFIDENT LIFT | 3.23.26
I didn’t go on sabbatical just to “get away.”
I went because my soul needed to hear again.
And what I didn’t expect… was how much God would say through what He created.
I took a 3-mile hike down to a river.
And when I say “down,” I need you to picture this correctly—it wasn’t cute, it wasn’t casual, and it definitely wasn’t easy.
It was steep. Uneven. At one point, I literally had to grab onto a rope just to make it down safely.
And I remember thinking, “This is a lot… but I’m already here, so I have to keep going.”
Step by step.
Slow. Intentional. Focused.
Because one wrong move and I could’ve slipped. And somewhere on that hike, it hit me…That’s exactly how some seasons of life feel.
Not smooth, nor predictable.
But requiring full dependence on God just to keep your footing.
When I finally made it to the bottom, I sat by the river.
With no service and no distractions.
Just me, God, and creation.
And I sat there for over two hours.
And while I was there, God spoke to me through nature.
Through the whispers of the wind and the steady rippling of the water.
Through the birds chirping like they had no worries in the world, God and me had an intimate life altering moment.
I began to pray. To confess and release.
You may judge me for this level of vulnerability, but I’m going to be real with you…
I’ve been struggling with impure thoughts.
Not in the way people often assume… but in my heart posture.
I’ve found myself wanting justice through my lens instead of trusting the lens of Jesus.
I’ve been wanting things to be made right now.
Wanting vindication. Wanting… if I’m keeping it H.O.T (honest, open, and transparent)… a form of vengeance.
Nope… I know this doesn’t sound “holy.” But it’s real.
And sitting there by that river, I couldn’t hide it anymore.
So I didn’t.
I wailed.
I cried out to God.
“Lord, this is what’s in me. This is where I am. Help me.”
And right there… in that raw, unfiltered moment…
He met me.
Not with shame nor condemnation.
But with forgiveness, and peace.
The kind of peace that doesn’t make sense… but you know it’s real because you can feel the shift.
And then… God started speaking through the wind.
You can’t see it…
but you can feel it.
You can’t control it…
but you can absolutely see the impact of it.
One moment it’s a gentle breeze brushing across your face…
And the next? It’s strong enough to shift trees, move storms, and change direction without warning.
And I felt God whisper:
“That’s how I move.”
And life started making sense in a different way.
Because life can feel like that, can’t it?
One moment everything is calm… steady… predictable.
And then suddenly—things start blowing.
Situations shift.
People change.
Pressure increases.
And you’re left trying to figure out what just happened.
But the wind reminded me… Just because you can’t see what God is doing… doesn’t mean He’s not moving.
And just because you can’t control it… doesn’t mean it’s not working for you.
And then there was the sun.
I watched it rise… and I watched it begin to set.
And God spoke again.
The sun doesn’t question its assignment.
It rises when it’s supposed to rise.
It sets when it’s supposed to set.
No comparison or striving.
Just obedience.
And I sat there thinking…
What would my life look like if I trusted God with that same level of consistency?
Showing up when He says move.
Resting when He says pause.
Not rushing the process… and not resisting it either.
By the time I made that 3-mile hike back up, using that same rope, stepping on that same steep path…
I realized something had changed.
The climb was still hard.
But I wasn’t carrying the same weight.
Because I left some things at that river.
And maybe that’s the lesson I want to leave with you today:
There is healing that only happens when you get still long enough to release.
Because there’s something powerful about nature…
It’s not man-made.
It’s not rushed.
Everything in it has purpose.
The wind moves with intention.
The sun rises on assignment.
The water flows without force.
And when we place ourselves in that kind of environment, something in our soul starts to realign.
So let me ask you this…
What have you been carrying that you need to release?
Not manage.
Not justify.
But release.
If you can, take a moment today—even if it’s just 10 minutes.
Sit outside. Be still. Breathe.
And ask God:
“Lord, what’s in me that doesn’t look like You?”
And then be honest enough to listen… and brave enough to let it go.
I didn’t leave that river perfect.
But I left lighter.
And sometimes… that’s the miracle.
If you’re local and looking to experience this with community, come join us this Saturday March 28th! I have just a few spots remaining and would love to have you join us.
