God is Nature; Nature is Peace
My meadow. I sit feeling the knee-high grass teasing my skin as the wind gently caresses it. My hair, like the grass dances in the wind. Gold tendrils fly and gently kiss my face. The sun warms my skin through the light blue, snug, t-shirt I’m wearing. The sun is on my back, relaxing me as it seeps into my muscles.
I see nothing, but prairie grass for miles, yet I know if I were to turn to look behind me, I would see the forest with a wide path that leads to a clearing where I would find my cabin snuggly fit inside. The cabin was a making of my design. Every inch was a representation of tranquility.
I let the cabin fill my thoughts as I rolled my shoulders, loosening my muscles a bit more. A rusty varnish gave my house an old-country appearance. My chimney will be smoke free for a few months, but it sat on the north end of the cabin waiting. During the winter months it would be releasing grey dancing smoke heavenward into the bright blue.
Windows comprised almost the entire west wall of the cabin, including the master bedroom, the living room and the kitchen. On rainy days I am able to watch the rain dance among the trees, dropping to the ground and splashing when they hit. During storms I can see the lightning jump from cloud to cloud, and hear with astounding clarity the thunder as it cracks and rolls through the sky. When winter arrives, bringing the blustering snows I can watch it fluff to earth and continue to watch as the weight of the accumulating snow gathers and strains the branches too their limits.
I hug my tan legs, loving the peace, loving my nook in the world. Again the wind makes the grass dance at the same time, it teases my hair. I feel a gentle shiver down my spine, and roll my shoulders again. Like the spreading of a prairie fire the wind fuels my peace as it blows from behind me. I breathe the delightful sent of the pine trees, the bitter of the dirt, and the sweet sent of my deep violet lilac bushes.
I continue reminiscing about my safe-haven, my cabin. There were two more bedrooms. The front bedroom (the guest room) faces the east with a large window and a wide, padded window seat where one can watch the sun rise through the trees and pathway. It also has a rustic feeling. The bedroom set includes a hand crafted, dark-cherry wood, four-poster bed, the headboard sitting against the west wall, and a matching chest of drawers further into the room against the south wall, near a second, smaller, window. On each side of the bed are identical end tables that match the rest of the furniture. A quilt that contains various shades of blue and green around a bright yellow sun splash covers the bed. The wall is a clean, deep, ocean blue with an ivy border. The floors, like the rest of the cabin were hard wood. Identical mint-green throw rugs were on each side of the bed. At the end of the bed stood a flat-topped chest that was the same color as the rest of the furniture. Above the bed hung a watercolor painting of the cabin, as the sun set behind it. The closet was located two feet from the right side of the bed. Two wooden pocket doors concealed its contents. Then, in the corner between the east and north walls stood a full-length, matching, mirror. A dark-cherry dresser stood against the north wall, an abstract green and blue painting hanging above it. The door stood next to the dresser and opened from the left.
As the sun falls further down in the sky behind me I relax onto my back for a short while then roll onto my stomach to watch the sunset through the trees. The sky was a mixture of red and blues as the sun receded and changed from a bright yellow to a more fiery orange. Anyone who denies the existence of God has obviously never watched nature closely. There is a peace here that only He can make.
Back in my cabin I picture my hallway between the two bedrooms, done in a bright white with a rose design at the east end of the hall. The baseboards matching the peddles of the leaves in the rose design, a deep, rich green.
Right across from the guest bedroom stood a smaller bedroom that had been converted into my office. There it was less rustic and more contemporary. The north wall was a deep, captivating red, while the other three walls were an off-white color. On the red paint hung framed jackets of my books. They were hung in pattern that looked like a spider web extending from my first publication. My desk sat in the back, left, corner and extended into the room so I could have the wall at my back and more natural light onto my desk. The desk was also handcrafted, but it was twirled black chrome instead of wood. The surfaces were glass, and gleamed in the sun. The wall above the desk had the same twisted chrome as the desk, making shelves for my office supplies. The rest of the south wall had three, six-foot, matching bookcases. At the end of the room, near the door, there were two other chrome bookcases. Along the eastern wall there were two large bay windows, separated by a final bookcase. In the center of the area left open by the desk and book shelves there were two, black, over-stuffed chairs and two loveseats making up a rectangle around a twisted chrome coffee table that sat on a large, circular, red throw rug. Not all the bookcases were filled to the absolute max with books, but I was well on my way to getting them there. On shelves that were not full of books sat decorations of red and black, and above every bookcase hung a red and black artificial floral design.
The sun was finally deep behind the trees and dusk had arrived, and with it a chill in the air. I closed my eyes as I took a long, luxurious, breath filling my lungs and spirit enough that I knew I’d be able to make it through the night in peace. As I sat up I sent a short “thank-You” to God for bringing this beauty into my life, as well as for the gift of His Son. I moseyed trough the prairie grass towards the woods expressing my thoughts to God, and again thinking of the earthly safe-haven that He’d given me.
After leaving my office I mentally follow the short hall to my “great room.” The great room included my kitchen, living room, and my loft bedroom. The hall held a bathroom just after the guest room. As far as bathrooms go, it’s relatively large. The walls are oak slats, matching the floor, with a very light varnish. The bath lies against the back wall and gives the appearance of being an old metal tub, until you looked at it from directly above. Then you can see the black porcelain, and the little button that turned the shower on and off. On both sides of the button there are “increase” and “decrease” buttons for hot and cold. The sink is on the south side of the bathroom. It’s black porcelain on top of a three-foot black counter. The sink, like the tub has a pseudo metal side. The faucet looks like an old-fashioned pump. The red paint on the side appears to be chipping and old. However, like the shower, buttons that sit on the handle control the water. On the floor in front of the sink lies a colorful rug. I hand-made it from old cloth scraps. The toilet, also black porcelain, sits next to the tub, in a corner. It has a small wall between them, then there is another wall about five feet from the back wall, giving even more privacy. The top of the toilet has a number of old remedy bottles strategically placed on a metal cover that hides the tank. In front of the wall there is a closet that again has a pocket door. This was the place I came to when I needed to get my perspective back on track. As well as the place where a bath and prayer were the gravity for my life.
As I trekked up the long drive back to my log cabin, I looked at each individual tree, and thought how, like people, each one was different. However, unlike people each one was free to live and grow every which way, yet they chose to grow closer to God everyday. Millimeter by millimeter every day, every year, the trees are growing closer to Him. I trimmed back some of the branches every spring and autumn, yet I knew that doing so would make the tree more healthy. I knew that any pain I’d felt or would feel in the future was just God grooming me to be healthier.
The kitchen had a view of a strong and sturdy oak that was just as the epitome of my thoughts. When I built the house, the oak was ill, and I wanted to remove the eyesore from my line of sight. Yet, something stilled my hand as I was going to make the call to have it removed. Instead, I went to the local greenery store and bought fertilizer, pulled out my saw and hand tools, then set to work. I trimmed, fertilized, and cared for this oak and now, five years later, it is showing me God’s truth.
The kitchen had all modern, rustic-looking, appliances. The stove gave the appearance of an old wood stove, charcoal black and cast-iron in appearance. I never took the time to find out what material it was truly made of, but other than it’s rounded shape it worked entirely like any other stove I’d used. The counters and cupboards were made of a light cherry wood. They lined the east and south sides of the kitchen, with the stove closest to the large glass pane that let me enjoy all the elements. The refrigerator was hidden inside the pantry at the end of the east wall, as were the electric mixer and coffee maker. In the middle of the counter that faced south was a sink, it was not split, but rather a large metal bowl with a hand-pump faucet (much like the bathroom’s). On top of the east counter sat an old hand mixer, some old Coca-Cola® and Pepsi® bottles, and other kitchen items from centuries past. In the center of a room sat a hand-carved cherry table, and its matching chairs. In the legs of the table and back of the chairs was burned an intricate rose and vine pattern. The walls, like the bathroom, were a pale yellow and flowed into the living room.
The living room was slightly larger than the kitchen, given that the walls went all the way back to my office, but it was still cozy. On the north wall sat a fireplace, with a patterned, black, chrome fireguard. The fireplace was built of stone, with a large, flat stone making up the mantle. On top of the stone sat a black mantle clock that showed time really did move in the cabin, although it rarely felt that way. Two old, crossed, shot guns hung above the fireplace. In front of the fireplace was a black bear skin. There was a blue-gray loveseat and two matching chairs that made it into an inviting little cove, and all the furniture was positioned so that the natural beauty just beyond the glass was visible.
The east wall had a mural of a cabin sitting by a river as the sun rose. Inside the mural were various animals playing. The wall was eight feet high, and the roof slanted upwards to accommodate my loft bedroom. The loft had stairs that started next to the fireplace, then a landing place that turned the stairs west, straight up to the place I gratefully returned to every evening. There was a banister on the left as one climbed the stairs, and it continued down the length of the loft. The posts were made of a cherry wood that matched the kitchen they were plain, as was the banister, yet it gave a more relaxed feel to the three intricate rooms. There was a large burgundy area rug that covered most of the open-area bedroom. The bed was in the northwest corner of the room. It was a canopy bed with black walnut posts and sheer burgundy hangings. The headboard sat against the north wall. It held the same pattern of roses as the kitchen table and chairs, and the rest of the furniture was built to match it. There was an end table on either side of the bed and the room also held two matching dressers, that sat about five feet from the end of the bed. The bed was topped with a white down comforter that had the rose pattern sewn into it.
Behind the dressers sat three burgundy loveseats. Each was overstuffed and held a fluffy blanket at its end. They sat in a “U” shape that faced the picture window. It was here that I would most often watch the weather. Rarely would I go there, unless I had the time to sit and meditate on the beauty that was God. It was my haven inside a shelter.
Now, back at my door, I enter this shelter God has made into a home for me with a prayer of thanks written on my heart. The door closes behind me and the mural is back in place. I place my shoes on the next to the coat stand that sits to the right of the fireplace, and slowly move toward the bathroom. God is so heavy on my heart that I can’t wait to talk to Him as the hot bath water relaxes my body.
