The Walruses are Dying

Once upon a long long time...

I stood in a rainforest on top of a mountain in Costa Rica. It was damp and a little cloudy. During the climb up, the terrain had changed from grassy to rocky to a lush jungle with birds and trees, vines to swing on and a sleepy sloth hanging from a tree near the path, looking at us reproachfully. Before this moment, I hated hiking. Occasionally, my parents would drag me out on one trail or another and I would begrudgingly follow them for miles hardly looking at the scenery. But after Costa Rica, I couldn't get enough of the outdoors. On that mountain, I experienced pure joy and contentment--the kind that comes from time spent with friends, physical accomplishment, and marveling at nature and the God who created it. Since that time, God has used nature as a gentle and ever-present reminder to me of his power and his love. I have had days of driving around Seattle in tears and despair, when suddenly I'll come to the top of a hill and catch a glimpse of the mountains, the water, a sunset, and come face to face with the inescapable beauty of the world and presence of God.

I am not a tree-hugger. I grew up in a town with an economy centered around paper mills. I appreciate the fact that you have to cut down some trees for that. Progress means that you're going to dam some rivers, pollute some atmosphere, and step on a few paws for the sake of advancing humanity. I wouldn't put the environment over human security. However, there must be a balance. What a tragedy it would be to live in such a beautiful corner of the world and not appreciate it! The earth is here for us--not for us to exploit and destroy, but to use and treasure. There are ways to both use and conserve--to be a just a little more mindful and a little more careful about the things we do that are slowly and consistently destroying the planet. I think that we will destroy the planet eventually, but I hope we can make it last just a litte longer. A few more years of unspoiled forests, a few less species to marvel at before they disappear, a few more clean rivers to swim in.

Call me sentimental if you want. I'm becoming more so. Some time ago, I read a news blurb about the melting polar ice and the walruses who live on the ice flows. As the earth is getting warmer, the ice is getting smaller and the walruses are living in increasingly tight quarters. When something scares them--like a plane flying overhead--they all rush to the water and in their stampede, trample on and kill each other. If you had found me shortly after reading that article, there would have been tears in my eyes because the walruses are dying. It's hard to even explain why something like that moves me to tears and stories about war and human tragedy often leave me numb. Maybe it's because God has spoken to me so often through nature that it seems a little like taking a gift from him, throwing it down in the mud and stomping on it. Oh, and I'm guilty too. As guilty as anyone. Plenty of walrus blood on my hands.

This is really not a call to anything in particular other than awareness, and appreciation. There are always tradeoffs and we do the best we can. But once the walruses are gone, we will miss them.