“God, thank You for bringing me out here with You today. When I come with You, I know You will show me something spectacular!”
About ten years ago, I began praying this every morning before my hunts, and God has never failed to deliver. From breathtaking meteor showers before a majestic sunrise to unbelievable animal encounters, each outing has left me in awe of how beautiful, powerful, and at times, brutal nature can be. Even the small moments, like sunlight lighting up a spider’s intricate, dew-covered web, or a massive black bear scratching its back on a tree just yards away, have felt like divine gifts. He has always been faithful to show me something truly spectacular in nature.
Maybe that’s why it took me a decade to realize the flaw in my prayer.
That realization came last September, as I sat beneath a spruce tree, gazing out across a vast wilderness nine thousand feet above sea level in the Rocky Mountains. There was no one else around for miles, just my hunting partner and me. The only sounds came from the mountains and their wild inhabitants. The only sign of civilization was the gear we carried on our backs.
Normally, this kind of setting would make me feel like an outsider, like I didn’t belong there. But this trip was different. We were there for two weeks, but it only took a few hours for me to encounter God in the most spectacular way.
Sitting beneath that tree, I began to pray my usual “hunting” prayer. But then I paused, I didn’t like what my heart was saying. I had always intended that prayer to be one of gratitude: grateful for the moment, the opportunity to be in nature, and the chance to spend time with the Creator of it all. In the past, I would pray and then try to focus on my relationship with God, to commune with Him. But that day, I realized I was doing so with the expectation that He would “show up and show off.” My prayer had become self-serving, like I was asking the Director for a sneak peek at a hit movie that hadn’t been released yet.
And to be fair, I know the unreleased movie is a hit, every prequel He’s shown me has been dynamite! But as great as those moments were, they didn’t compare to what unfolded before me that day. In that moment, I knew it was time to flip the script.
My prayer needed refining. It needed something that would draw me deeper into His presence. It needed to be not just grateful—but glorifyingly grateful, if that’s even a thing. So, with a heart humbled like creation before the Creator, I prayed:
“God, thank You for bringing me out here with You today. Thank You for including me in this scene. I know You have something incredible in store for me, but being in Your presence is enough. You are always enough.”
For me, it took being in a literal wilderness to finally realize that His presence truly is enough. I’m sure I’ve thought that before, and maybe even felt it at times during my spiritual journey. But to be completely detached from civilization, surrounded only by what He created, it hit me differently.
From that moment on, I no longer felt like an outsider. I had moved from the audience to the stage. On that mountain, I was no longer a spectator, I was part of the show. My heart danced with the trees in the fresh, piney breeze and shuddered with the thunder and cold rain. My soul lit up as lightning raced across the sky like the flash of a million cameras. The dance was perfectly choreographed with all creation. It felt… natural, like I was home.
The Director’s masterpiece was unfolding scene by scene, not just before me, but with me. My heart nearly exploded as I stood in a moment with nothing except His presence, in a place with nothing but what He had put there. He had included me and that was enough.
Since then, I’ve been striving to approach life with that understanding: God is enough. And I am grateful that He still includes me in His story. It’s not always easy. We can sometimes control the scenes we’re in, but other times we’re cast into roles we’d rather avoid. Some scenes are joyful, some are tragic. But no matter what, I know the Director is working on a masterpiece, and I am forever grateful to be included.
When I find myself in a difficult scene, I close my eyes and return to that mountain. I smell the piney breeze. I feel the thunder rumble in my chest and the cold rain on my shoulders. I see all of creation dancing in harmony around me. Because in His presence, there is harmony.
The wilderness is a sacred place for me. It was there I encountered God unlike ever before. To commune with Almighty God, surrounded by nothing but His presence and the beauty of His creation, maybe that’s what Heaven is like.
He included me.
And that is enough.
