When was the last time you took a walk? Explored the outdoors?

I love to look out my window, and every time I do, I think that I’ll go outside more often—that I’ll go enjoy creation more. 

But every time, I look away and forget, slipping back into my every day routine without hardly looking outside. I spend my days indoors, forgetting about the much wider world awaiting just a few paces away. 

Maybe you’re like me. Maybe you’ll glance out at a morning’s fog or a stunning sunset and feel the yearning to press the image into your heart and memory like a flower in a book. But then it fades away, as you knew it would, forgotten in the deluge of daily, monotonous life. 

I’ve always loved nature, yet it seems like I never make it outside unless I’m dragged there. If given an opportunity to take a walk in the great outdoors, half the time I’ll decline because it’s “not convenient timing”. I think I’ll just go out later. But I don’t. 

And I have a feeling I’m not the only one. 

Maybe you’re good about this—you go outside regularly, enjoying the world God has given us to the fullest. If this is you, then you have my respect. Keep going.

But I think for most of us, it’s easy to forget. With walls around us, a to-do list nagging at the corners of our minds, the online world, and the desire for “a little peace and quiet” that translates to staring at a wall or taking a nap, it’s easy to ignore the forests and fields, the stars and the sunlight. 

And of course, it isn’t helped by the fast-paced culture surrounding us—the cars to speed us to a destination without regard for the journey, the microwaves to heat our food and convince us that a minute or two is an eternity, the AI assistants to answer every question so we don’t have to research. Not that any of these things are inherently bad—they all have their uses, and each of them is a blessing if used well. 

But in the rush, taking the time to look at scenery that remains the same day by day can feel exhausting. Or like you need a solid hour to spend on it—a solid hour you always forget about when it falls into your lap. 

And besides that, it can feel like a waste of time. Somehow, it’s easy to convince ourselves that we shouldn’t go outside, because we have better things to do. So we stay indoors, even if we still get nothing done. 

But is it a waste? I don’t think so. 

God gave us the world for a reason. Psalm 19:1 tells us that “The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork.” The world around us isn’t just a pretty thing to look at—it’s a picture that points us to God, that reminds us of who He is and what He cares about. 

The world around us tells us about our Creator, and what can be more beneficial than that? 

I remember standing out on the Oregon coast a year or two ago, gazing up at the stars, and thinking about that verse. 

The sun seems a clear picture of God, giving light and life to our small world, even though we have nothing to give back. He is steady and enduring, impossible to approach without getting burnt, but binding us to Himself at just the right distance to flourish. 

The Earth and the moon are a picture of humanity. 

The moon as God’s people, reflecting His light on the rest of humanity, though imperfectly. We have no light of our own to give, useless without the Son. And even in our reflections, we’re inconsistent, oscillating between shining His light to the best of our ability, despite our craters and imperfections, and turning away to focus on ourselves, giving nothing to the world but darkness. 

The rest of humanity, too, changes its mind nightly, accepting and rejecting elements of God’s word, fickle and stubborn. 

For much of history, we thought that the Sun revolved around us—that Earth was the center of the solar system, the center of everything. Looking up from our vantage point, we thought we were unmoving and sure—that the Sun and the stars were here only for us. That they needed us. But as we’ve grown, we’ve learned that that isn’t the case. At least scientifically, we’ve discovered that there is something greater giving us life, something that we revolve around, that keeps us from flying into the void surrounding us, even if we can’t always see its light. We’ve learned that we need the Sun, rather than the other way around.

And I believe that one day the rest of the world will come to see that in a spiritual sense as well, even if it takes them a very long time to do so.

Because the world we see every day is full of imagery, full of metaphors, and it’s meant to point us to the Creator of all things. 

So, no, I don’t think it’s a waste of time to go outside, to soak in the splendor all around us. 

Especially as Christians. I think it’s a little ironic how much the rest of the world seems to value the outdoors while we remain cooped up. They can’t even see most of its purpose. 

We are told to be in the world, not of the world. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t step outside. If anything, taking the time to venture into the outdoors grounds us, reminding us of our God’s sovereignty and our own need. 

The longing we feel when the sun sets in a spray orange and gold, periwinkle and pink reminds us that we are made for more. It reminds us that the world is broken, but it points us to the God who will one day restore it, having already paid the price. 

A couple weeks ago, I sat on my porch as the sun set, and I wrote a poem: 

I won’t remember this moment

I won’t remember this day.

The longing light will fade away—

A needle ‘midst the hay.

~

I won’t remember this feeling, 

I won’t remember this night.

The dim will chase away the bright—

A vapor in the light.

I saw the sunset, the fading light, and already I can’t picture what it looked like. This world is fleeting, but the poem is incomplete—I’ve felt it since the moment I stopped writing. It’s only half the story, missing the sunrise on the other side. 

Because for every storm and every night there is a clear sky and a bright day awaiting. 

The world has seen a very long night, but the sun is rising by the Majesty of God and sacrifice of His Son. 

There’s a reason the Bible is filled with metaphors and Christian teaching is steeped in creational imagery—but we haven’t found it all yet. Just like how there are always more scientific discoveries to be made, I believe there are always more reflections of our Creator to be found in the world He has given us to steward. 

So next time you look out your window and think about stepping through your door, actually do it. Take even just a few minutes, and look for the Creator amidst His creation. 

You might be surprised by what you can find.