I was not a farmer or the son of a farmer but the Lord called me to farm. The corner of creation that I knew best growing up was wilderness. Backpacking in the Rockies. Guiding canoes through the Quetico-Superior Wilderness. And I loved it. I loved it all because in creation's wildness I somehow experienced refuge, safety, and care. I didn't really have the words for this experience but I wanted more of it. I envisioned a future wilderness life, but that was not to be. Instead, I farm. But there's wildness here too—in abundance. There is something deep in creation that remains undomesticated no matter how intense the cultivation.
Through Scripture I learned that the right word for my experience of refuge in creation was "Love." I was experiencing love. No wonder I found refuge in it. For creation is aimed at a certain love. And from this place of love, creation worships. "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork (Psalm 19)." In the first chapter of Genesis, each piece of creation is uniquely oriented toward God. He spoke and they took shape. And it was all for his glory, purpose, and delight. It seems like the creation account itself is a kind of ordered worship—a liturgy—in which each created thing is given a specific task as part of the larger whole; a certain liturgical element or ritual or practice that is daily enacted since the moment of creation.
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