Letter from the President February 2020
“Spirituality and the Environment”
For years, I have said that we need to have a program, workshop, or at least a lecture on “Spirituality and the Environment.” Global warming aside, I am talking about the transformative power of nature, trees, sunrises and sunsets, blooming flowers, the fresh scent of fallen rain, and yes, even thundershowers. The natural world can capture us and put gratitude in our hearts.
Before coming to Houston, my wife and I lived in Shreveport, Louisiana, and for many years we lived in a home facing Cross Lake. I shall never forget sitting on our patio before daybreak and waiting for the sun to rise. First, on the other side of the lake the sky would gradually turn from black to a golden glow. Then, at the appointed time the sun began to arise across the still lake. Just a tiny glimmer at first but soon sun beams danced across the water. My heart danced, too, as I thanked God for the gift of creation.
With the rising sun came the chirping of countless birds, their chorus a welcomed symphony, writing anew each day their own composition. I often wished I was a musician and could have set it to music. I decided there was no need. Birds returned each day to sing in my ear their next glorious offering. And I thanked God for the birds that filled the sky.
Next, came the animals. Squirrels scurried across the lawn, fish jumped at the water’s edge, ducks swam in formation, dogs barked, and every morning an alligator slowly and quietly made her way from a lagoon to my right, swimming beneath our pier to venture into the open waters to my far left. I was always pleased she had a distant destination in mind. Thank you, God.
People say lightning never strikes the same place twice. They are wrong. Lightning struck a cypress tree on our property twice. The first time caused little damage and a month later a second bolt of lightning knocked the top out of the same tree leaving one limb sticking out all by itself at the top of the tree. It was unsightly, and a neighbor must have agreed.
One Saturday morning, my neighbor floated his flat-roofed boathouse to the ugly cypress tree. He crawled on top of the boat house with a saw in hand. He was about to chop off the unsightly limb when suddenly the neighbor from the other side of my house, Darla, hurtled herself over our fence and came screaming at the top of her lungs, “Don’t touch that tree! Don’t touch that tree! A cypress tree is the State Tree of Louisiana and it is against the law to touch a cypress tree!” So she exclaimed, waving her arms in the air.
I wasn’t so sure it could be against the law to trim an unsightly limb off a tree, even the State Tree of Louisiana, and the man atop his boathouse must have doubted as well, because he placed his saw on the limb and almost proceeded. In retaliation, Darla screamed with all her might, “If you so much as make one saw on that limb, I am calling the police!” The man hesitated for several
moments while Darla glared with hands on her hips. Finally, he set the saw down and moved his boat house away from the tree. To my great disappointment, the unsightly limb remained.
Darla had won the battle, and that wasn’t the first time she had come screaming over our fence, always to stop someone from hurting a bird, a fish, or even a snake. Yes, a snake! We were forbidden by her to kill snakes. She always said, “God gave us snakes too, you know.” I wasn’t so sure Darla was right about snakes, but she had a way of making me ponder.
Again and again, Darla won the battle. Birds often flew into the windows on our lake house and Darla would nurture them back to health. Once, we were in her home and opened the freezer door to get ice and found a dead bird in Darla’s freezer. She said she had not been able to revive the bird and it was so beautiful she couldn’t just throw it in the trash. I was touched by her tender heart.
Through it all, Darla taught me to respect the beautiful environment of Cross Lake. She made me conscious to give thanks for all of God’s creatures, not just the rising and setting of the sun, beautiful as it was. All deserved to be appreciated, valued, and respected. Darla taught me that and I am grateful for it.
O Lord, we give thanks for the splendor of creation, for the beauty of this world, for the wonder of life, and for the mystery of love. And, thanks for Darla who helped we realize this was true.
John K. Graham, MD, DMin President & CEO
Institute for Spirituality and Health