I was pondering this thought of God speaking Creation into being as I traipsed through the woods behind my in-laws house today chasing a trail of ripened black raspberries. The raspberries grow wild through the woods and down the ravine along a small gurgling stream. It was an expedition that left me a bit scratched up and mosquito bitten, but intensely satisfied. As I chased the trail of berries, calculating each step to ensure I didn’t break an ankle, I felt a bit like a pioneer in the wild west, with the exception of the sound of cars passing in the unseen road above me.
As the berries stained my hands red with juice bursting with intoxicating scent, that’s when a new thought hit me. I think when God created summer berries, He didn’t speak them into existence. I think He laughed, and the brilliant sparkles of His laughter landed on the ground and up sprang berries on luscious plants and bushes of green. Berries of brilliant colors and vibrant taste, berries that would make us close our eyes and sigh in pleasure. I think He laughed and then laughed again when He thought of the the first explorers stumbling across berries in the wilderness, desperate for food, and finding the tastiest sustenance they’ve ever known. I think He chuckled as He thought of big brown bears, ferocious, muscular animals known to bring terror to man and beast alike, brought to their knees by tiny little bursts of berry flavor. He might have snickered when He thought of birds feasting on berries and then SCATtering the seeds where ever the wind takes…um…them.
I think God took great pleasure in all His creations, but with summer berries, He may have had a bit of extra fun.