God and Nature 2025 #1
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By Abbie Schrotenboer
The Wild columbine plants in my yard produce lovely red and yellow flowers each year, followed by the development of seed pods filled with tiny black seeds. If you find the pods at the right time, you can shake the little seeds out into your hand, and the shiny, black flecks will scatter across your palm. By wintertime, the green parts of the plant will have dried up and become part of the detritus on the ground, and you aren’t likely to see any of those seeds, which perhaps by now are tucked into a bit of soil and covered by snow. It might seem like a time of death and lifelessness. However, life persists—for this winter state is not death but rather dormancy.
As I walk through the woods in winter, I like to remind myself of all the life around me hidden in the soil—in roots, in seeds, and in insects hibernating. I take time to notice the unassuming buds on trees and shrubs, evidence of these plants’ preparations for spring’s bounty. In our own lives, we may have times when we feel some of the quietness and slowness of winter dormancy and long for evidence of lush growth and fruitfulness. Perhaps nature can serve as a reminder of the value of our winter seasons. We can see God’s provisions for the lilies of the field, as well as the columbine, the trillium, the dogwood tree, and so much more, and in so seeing, be reminded of how God provides for us as well, even in seasons that feel like dormancy.
The Wild columbine plants in my yard produce lovely red and yellow flowers each year, followed by the development of seed pods filled with tiny black seeds. If you find the pods at the right time, you can shake the little seeds out into your hand, and the shiny, black flecks will scatter across your palm. By wintertime, the green parts of the plant will have dried up and become part of the detritus on the ground, and you aren’t likely to see any of those seeds, which perhaps by now are tucked into a bit of soil and covered by snow. It might seem like a time of death and lifelessness. However, life persists—for this winter state is not death but rather dormancy.
As I walk through the woods in winter, I like to remind myself of all the life around me hidden in the soil—in roots, in seeds, and in insects hibernating. I take time to notice the unassuming buds on trees and shrubs, evidence of these plants’ preparations for spring’s bounty. In our own lives, we may have times when we feel some of the quietness and slowness of winter dormancy and long for evidence of lush growth and fruitfulness. Perhaps nature can serve as a reminder of the value of our winter seasons. We can see God’s provisions for the lilies of the field, as well as the columbine, the trillium, the dogwood tree, and so much more, and in so seeing, be reminded of how God provides for us as well, even in seasons that feel like dormancy.
...the hidden life of winter brings forth this burst of life in spring, a time of beautiful renewal. |
Let’s take a closer look at that columbine plant. Although the visible plant dies back in winter, the roots persist with stored energy ready for next season. To handle the cold, many perennial plants accumulate a sort of chemical antifreeze in their roots—this is done with sugars, salts, and special proteins. Processes that sustain the roots, such as the breakdown of carbohydrates for energy, slow down but continue to fuel the roots through the winter. In the case of the seeds, each one contains a miniscule plant embryo that holds the hope of growth to come. These little specks of life must be able to handle conditions that none of us would like to tolerate—drying down to a state with very little water and persisting through freezing cold temperatures of winter.
One of the many delights of God’s creation is the abundance of diversity—in how plants look, certainly, but also in their varied adaptations. While some species are running in their lowest possible gear over the winter, spring ephemerals like trout lily are plants that run on a different schedule. Trout lilies grow quickly in early spring, sprouting leaves, making flowers, and going to seed all in a very short period of time. Then they go dormant during the heat of summer. During winter, they are still hidden from view but are actually slowly growing up through the soil to be ready to burst onto the scene in spring.
While some life is covered with soil during winter, some is hiding in plain sight. Trees and shrubs have already laid the groundwork for next year’s growth by forming buds that will weather the winter. The buds are little protective packets containing the developing leaves or flowers. Take the eastern redbud tree as an example—look closely for tiny little protrusions that are similar in color to the bark and shaped somewhat like an egg or a footfall with small scales. The flower buds are the ones that are a bit larger and more rounded than the leaf buds. Check not only the branches but also the tree trunk because redbuds have the interesting characteristic of blooming right from their trunk—a trait called cauliflory. Having these buds is another strategy to make the most of the spring when it arrives.
When the time is right, plants shift from what is their slow resourcefulness of winter into a period of spring growth and activity. Environmental cues such as longer days, warming temperatures, and changes to water availability act as signals for plants to make this shift. Different species will have their own set of cues and their own timeline for their seasonal changes. Roots increase their growth and the flow of water and nutrients. Buds increase in size, and the bud scales open to reveal small leaves that rapidly unfold and then increase in size. In the case of seeds, the embryo inside swells in size, the seed coat breaks, and a root emerges. The root detects the force of gravity and, in response, will grow downward, increasing the likelihood of establishing well in the soil.
Even with this profusion of growth in spring, some individuals may remain dormant for longer periods. What is needed to break seed dormancy is variable not only among species, but among individuals of the same species as well. To me, this serves as another example of the amazing diversity in God’s world. This can result in many seeds germinating in the spring following their production by their mother plant, while other seeds are waiting it out for the next year or more. Most roots that have enough stored energy will begin growing again, but sometimes they may stay in their slow, quiet state for longer.
In the Midwestern landscape that I call home, the hidden life of winter brings forth this burst of life in spring, a time of beautiful renewal. Spring flowers are blooming, and leaves are unfurling. In that season of new growth and visible life, hope seems abundantly evident to me. However, to get to the spring, we must have made it through the winter. With a little more consideration, I can see the hope of spring even in winter as I consider how God has created so many amazing species with wonderful adaptations for persisting during difficult times. God provides in ways that are not always easily seen but run persistently through the world that God has created and continues to sustain. I believe this is true not only in the Lord’s care for the lilies of the field but also for the Lord’s care for each of us.
Abbie Schrotenboer is a professor of biology at Trinity Christian College in Palos Heights, Illinois, where she enjoys teaching students about biodiversity, ecology, conservation, and how to think scientifically. You might find her on a forest preserve trail bending down next to a plant or pointing her binoculars up at a bird. She has a BS from Calvin University and a PhD in Plant Biology from Michigan State University.
One of the many delights of God’s creation is the abundance of diversity—in how plants look, certainly, but also in their varied adaptations. While some species are running in their lowest possible gear over the winter, spring ephemerals like trout lily are plants that run on a different schedule. Trout lilies grow quickly in early spring, sprouting leaves, making flowers, and going to seed all in a very short period of time. Then they go dormant during the heat of summer. During winter, they are still hidden from view but are actually slowly growing up through the soil to be ready to burst onto the scene in spring.
While some life is covered with soil during winter, some is hiding in plain sight. Trees and shrubs have already laid the groundwork for next year’s growth by forming buds that will weather the winter. The buds are little protective packets containing the developing leaves or flowers. Take the eastern redbud tree as an example—look closely for tiny little protrusions that are similar in color to the bark and shaped somewhat like an egg or a footfall with small scales. The flower buds are the ones that are a bit larger and more rounded than the leaf buds. Check not only the branches but also the tree trunk because redbuds have the interesting characteristic of blooming right from their trunk—a trait called cauliflory. Having these buds is another strategy to make the most of the spring when it arrives.
When the time is right, plants shift from what is their slow resourcefulness of winter into a period of spring growth and activity. Environmental cues such as longer days, warming temperatures, and changes to water availability act as signals for plants to make this shift. Different species will have their own set of cues and their own timeline for their seasonal changes. Roots increase their growth and the flow of water and nutrients. Buds increase in size, and the bud scales open to reveal small leaves that rapidly unfold and then increase in size. In the case of seeds, the embryo inside swells in size, the seed coat breaks, and a root emerges. The root detects the force of gravity and, in response, will grow downward, increasing the likelihood of establishing well in the soil.
Even with this profusion of growth in spring, some individuals may remain dormant for longer periods. What is needed to break seed dormancy is variable not only among species, but among individuals of the same species as well. To me, this serves as another example of the amazing diversity in God’s world. This can result in many seeds germinating in the spring following their production by their mother plant, while other seeds are waiting it out for the next year or more. Most roots that have enough stored energy will begin growing again, but sometimes they may stay in their slow, quiet state for longer.
In the Midwestern landscape that I call home, the hidden life of winter brings forth this burst of life in spring, a time of beautiful renewal. Spring flowers are blooming, and leaves are unfurling. In that season of new growth and visible life, hope seems abundantly evident to me. However, to get to the spring, we must have made it through the winter. With a little more consideration, I can see the hope of spring even in winter as I consider how God has created so many amazing species with wonderful adaptations for persisting during difficult times. God provides in ways that are not always easily seen but run persistently through the world that God has created and continues to sustain. I believe this is true not only in the Lord’s care for the lilies of the field but also for the Lord’s care for each of us.
Abbie Schrotenboer is a professor of biology at Trinity Christian College in Palos Heights, Illinois, where she enjoys teaching students about biodiversity, ecology, conservation, and how to think scientifically. You might find her on a forest preserve trail bending down next to a plant or pointing her binoculars up at a bird. She has a BS from Calvin University and a PhD in Plant Biology from Michigan State University.