As a child, a walnut tree grew in our garden. I remember climbing it often, lying on the biggest branch, my arms and legs wrapped tightly around it. I would press my face against the bark, inspecting the lacy, grey-green frills that grew along it in strange patches.
I’m sure you’ve seen lichen at one point or another, growing on the side of a tree, a boulder or maybe on your roof. It isn’t moss and it isn’t a parasite; it’s just a plant-like organism that’s a combination of fungi and algae. It sounds delightful (not really), doesn’t look very exciting and may seem an odd thing to draw lessons from. But lately I’ve been trying to see God in the world around me, looking at the little, seemingly insignificant things to see something greater. Somehow, I landed on lichen, and I’ve reflected on three ways lichen helps me understand faith.
Firstly, lichen grows everywhere. If you go for a bush walk, chances are you’ll see it somewhere along the way. The interesting thing about this strange life-form is that it will grow on practically every surface, even in the most extreme conditions our planet has to offer. It can survive the tundra and even Antarctica, where temperatures plunge well below zero. It grows in some of the hottest deserts on Earth, withstanding heat that no human could. Lichen even grows in toxic slag heaps, places filled with noxious waste. Sometimes you may find yourself in a desert, overtaken by a thirst you can’t satisfy. Other times you might feel like a tundra, frozen in fear and indecision. But even if your life feels like a toxic slag heap—a place of utter desolation—God is still present. No matter what situation you might find yourself in, God is there. That might seem like an overly simplistic statement. It’s hard, when you’re in those difficult periods, to believe that God is working—that He actually listens and cares. And it’s okay to doubt and to wrestle with challenges, even to wrestle with God. But God gives us many promises in the Bible to hold onto, like Deuteronomy 31:8: “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”
I’ve learned that lichen comes in a vast array of shapes, sizes and colours. Some are pale and crusty, others leafy, shaggy or scaly. Some are green or grey, others are yellow, orange, even red. Have you ever felt the expectation—even if subconsciously—that your faith has to look like someone else’s? I have, and it’s taken me years to realise that just how each of us are different, our faith and the way God approaches us is going to be different. Yes, we all belong to one Church and have similar beliefs, but the way we experience God is going to vary. One person may find that their faith is strengthened through research and deep diving into the history of the Bible. Another person may find they’re drawn closer to God through music, or spending time in nature. Having a relationship with God is something very personal and God is very good at meeting people in the spaces where they are.
A few years ago, I went to the Bay of Fires, along the northeastern coast of Tasmania, where icy blue waves wash around boulders covered in bright orange lichen. It’s a beautiful place to explore, climbing over rocks a colour you wouldn’t expect rocks to be. If lichen can splash colour across the grey coast of Tasmania, imagine what God can bring to your life. Having a relationship with God can result in beautiful things, through ways you couldn’t have imagined. He brings life and colour to an otherwise barren landscape. And it draws people in. Others see something different about you—they ask questions and want to know more. Letting God be part of your journey can present opportunities to share with others the beauty of a relationship with Him.
So together, let’s trust that in the broken spaces, God is there. Let’s invite Him to grow in our lives and colour them with the fire of a life lived for Him.
