A couple of months ago I had the privilege of attending the Collegeville Institute alongside a dozen other spiritual writers. Over the next couple of months you’ll meet some of these artists, either through books they’ve written or through a series of essays about faith entitled, “Where Art Thou?” Today, I can’t wait to introduce you to Michelle de Beauchamp, a Washingtonian who’s so, so very good at finding beauty in the most ordinary of places. Enjoy!
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Every year my spouse and I try to go out into the wilderness and reconnect with each other and God. To us, going into nature pushes us away from others, our cell phones, the news, and social media. Once we start on a trail, we are detoxing our lives from all the other stuff. It is just us, nature, and God.
When we begin planning a backpacking trip, I get nervous. I secretly worry about what emotional demons might come up to the surface as my body is getting worn down over the miles. I worry that we will not be a good team, did not train enough, or cannot complete the trip. The demons of doubt, self-loathing, anger, shame, despair, anxiety, and control all get exorcised as we walk the path.
By the end of the journey, I feel renewed in my faith and that I have rediscovered who I am. The words to my prayers flow freely. I feel more centered in my vocation and where I am in life. And I am more deeply appreciative of and in love with my spouse. All the physical and emotional pain of the trip was worth it. We come out of the woods refined back to who we truly are.
Two summers ago, when we hiked across the Olympic Mountains, we had multiple interactions with the black squirrels and toads of the Quinault Rainforest. They filled the forest with their chirps, clicks, and croaks as we walked the path. During sunset of the second day, as we made our way to the next camp, I suddenly sensed being stared at by something ahead, and it made me jump and yelp. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a black toad with big bulging eyes, sitting six feet ahead of us on the path. It just sat there staring at us with a look of wonder.
This year, life caught up with us and we could not get away. My life felt like an extended bleak midwinter. The gray clouds just hung low and would not move on. I rushed around, threw myself into work, pushed through the checklists, and did things to make others happy. I did not want to slow down. If I slowed down, I would have to face my personal struggles, and what was going on with my relationship with God.
Recently, I attended a writing workshop in the woods. I was getting my car to leave when I saw something peculiar. A flash I would have missed if I kept to my usual way of rushing from one place to the next. I was lugging my suitcase down the gravel road through the forest to the parking lot. I noticed the birds were quiet, and to my left I heard something scraping against wood. Suddenly, a blur of white appeared to the left of me on a fence. Then it scurried around the post and jumped down right in front of me.
Before me sat a snow-white squirrel with a thick bushy tail. It tilted its head with curiosity and stared right at me. The albino animal had incandescent eyes that looked like pink pearls. I had never seen an animal that white in nature. There was not a speck of dirt on the creature. It sat there looking at me. Then as fast as it appeared, it darted across the road and spiraled up a gigantic cedar tree—disappearing into its branches. Later, when I asked the head of the retreat about this white squirrel, I discovered I was the only person to have seen it.
A toad greeting me on my path. A friendly squirrel taking a moment to connect in the parking lot. I could have easily missed these little creatures, hurrying from one place to the next. Rushing and consumed by the latest tweet, emotional drama, or breaking news. If I did not slow down, I would have missed these moments, missed the message, and in the invitation.
Stop Michelle. Look. Pay attention. Wonder. Do not worry.
The message from God was clear—pay attention and see the signs around you of God’s beauty, wonder, and creativity.
How marvelous this world can actually be.
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Michelle de Beauchamp is a pastor, writer, and outdoor enthusiast that lives on the coast of Washington State. She has served as an ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church of America) pastor in Colorado and Washington. You can connect with her on Twitter or Instagram. Now, Cara here again: I’m so excited for this series …and so grateful to Michelle for sharing her thoughts with us today. Leave a comment for her below – meanwhile, be on the lookout for more “Where Art Thou?” essays in the coming months!
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