These are the commands, decrees and laws the LORD your God directed me to teach you to observe in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to possess, so that you, your children and their children after them may fear the LORD your God as long as you live by keeping all his decrees and commands that I give you, and so that you may enjoy long life. Hear, O Israel, and be careful to obey so that it may go well with you and that you may increase greatly in a land flowing with milk and honey, just as the LORD, the God of your fathers, promised you.
Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up (Deuteronomy 6:1-6).
Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children (Proverbs 17:6).
Let me tell you about life on Ellavia. Ellavia is a small island on the shore of the east arm of Lake Michigan’s Grand Traverse Bay—about 100 feet long and 50 feet wide. It’s inhabited mostly by herring gulls and mallards—and briefly by two little girls: Ava and Elle. The girls did not live long on it—less than an hour. The island, which really was not an island but a small spit of land, is now a vital part of Elle and Ava’s memories. They had claimed the “island” after braving the current of a small stream that emptied into the bay, leaving Grandpa and Grandma Ohlman on the other side not particularly wanting to drench pants and shoes before getting back into the van.
The first order of business when you claim an island is to name it. Elle suggested that they certainly must include the discoverers’ names in its designation; so Ava proposed “Ellava.” But, with perhaps some placename pattern in mind, she changed the suggestion to “Ellavia.” It was immediately and enthusiastically agreed on by both that such was a most excellent name.
With a stick, a found child’s beach pail and shovel, and a half a loaf of sliced bread they explored the island, collected clam and zebra mussel shells from the creek and surf line, and fed the inhabitants—saying angry words at piggish gulls who wouldn’t share with a pair of mallards. Having a sandy lake shore, an infinite horizon, a creek on which
fresh beaver-clipped branches floated, an ample hill with steep drop-off to the creek, and sand to dig in, it was a momentary paradise in which they found joy—their time in Eden. The only enticement sufficient to get the granddaughters back off the spit was the promise of the indoor pool at the motel. But Ellavia was now in their hearts and on their minds, and we heard it mentioned frequently during the rest of our grandparent/grandchild weekend getaway.
This adventure reminded me afresh that the outdoors—God’s other book—captivates children and dramatically reduces the tensions our modern world and hectic lifestyles creates for them. Why is it that when we wean children from milk, we also want to wean them from their feelings of natural connection to God’s good earth? Not deliberately, yet surely, we stifle those feelings and break those links.
My heart aches for children today who are not given the opportunity I had as a child growing up with free and safe access to woods, pastures, ponds, creeks. This is especially poignant for me in the spring when joy fills my heart and nostalgia grips my emotions as I wander anew among the
born-again violets, adder’s tongue (trout lily), trillium, skunk cabbage, and marsh marigolds in the April woods and marshes. Still vivid in my memory is making handled cones out of construction paper in school the day before May 1 and then filling them with wildflowers to take home or hang on the knob of a nearby widow’s front door. We’d knock boldly on her door shouting “May Day, May Day!” and quickly hide in the bushes to see her open the door to discover not a visitor but a floral delight already wilting from the grip of our hot and grubby little hands.
Our children need the outdoors. They need intimacy with it. We know we are to teach them the “decrees, commands, and laws” of the Scripture—God’s special revelation. But the facts, wonders, and wisdom that come from nature—the Creator’s general revelation—are also vital. Sunday School at church is important, but Saturday School in God’s great outdoors also provides wonderful, even everlasting, rewards.
Understand it, harried parents! Get it, busy grandparents, aunts, and uncles!
The Wonder Kid’s page of this website offers suggestions about how adult caregivers can create wonderful memories and provide essential understanding of the creation to children. It is intended to be an interactive page where you can provide suggestions of your own. If you have forgotten how to register on the WOC site to make comments, you can send me a suggestion on Facebook (search “Dean Ohlman” there) or you can email me at RBC using “dohlman at rbc dot org.”
Be sure to check into the Children and Nature Network if you want learn more about curing kids of their NDD: nature deficit disorder.
If a couple readers of WOC have a desire to be regular “Wonder Kids” associates who would like to research children and nature connections and ideas and share them on the site, I’d love to have you contact me. –Dean

The 












Like autumn leaves, our bodies bear the marks of our mortality. But do we disrespect and neglect our bodies in the present because they will be replaced by incorruptible bodies in the future? In the following pages, educator and naturalist Dean Ohlman helps us to see that as we care for our own bodies, we also have reason to care for the world around us. Both are products of God’s handiwork, both require our faithful stewardship, and both share the promise of future restoration.
Why would anyone write about something as common and as unwelcome as dirt? It’s for good reason that we sweep our floors, wipe our shoes, and wash our soiled clothes. There are, however, other ways of looking at the stuff of which the Bible says God made Adam. In the following pages, RBC writer and naturalist Dean Ohlman does what he so skillfully did in earlier booklets about the wonder of trees and of water. Dean compels us to dig a little deeper into the nature and significance of the good earth that was valued far more by his grandfather’s generation than by most of us today.
In these times of industrial and commercial expansion, wilderness regions are often seen as low-rent real estate. Some see undeveloped land as untapped potential waiting for a developer’s big idea and investors’ money. But not RBC research writer and naturalist Dean Ohlman. With a weathered face, hiking boots, and a sun-shielding hat, Dean’s searching eyes scan rocks, weeds, soil, and whatever moves or doesn’t move in the rustling leaves and grass. There’s wonder and significance in the regions of our world that many of us have looked at without ever really seeing. I hope you find this booklet as inspiring as I have.
A world without trees would be a vastly different place. Neighborhoods without trees, fields without woods, and continents without forests would mean the end of life as we know it. As RBC staff writer Dean Ohlman points out in the following pages, in a world without trees the Bible would also be a different book. Beginning in Genesis we find the story of trees that define the spiritual nature of our existence and survival. May the wisdom of these pages renew our ability to see the wonder and significance of one of God’s great gifts to us.
Science labels the stuff H2O. It’s so common we hardly pay attention to it—until it loses its balance: raging floods, searing drought, stifling humidity, paralyzing blizzards. Reflecting the light of a setting sun or flowing gently through a mountain meadow, water gives us great delight. Seldom, however, do we consider the unseen properties of water that make it the one thing that gives the earth its uniqueness among all the other planets in our solar system—and even the newly discovered planets farther out in space. In this booklet, RBC writer Dean Ohlman urges us to contemplate at a far deeper level the significance of water to the human body—and to the soul.
Dr. Paul Brand, writer of God’s Forever Feast, lived through all but the first 14 years of the 20th century. During those years, many of them spent as a missionary doctor in India, he was able to witness the hand of the Creator working to heal the disease-wracked bodies of lepers. But because he was also fascinated by birds, plants, and ecology, Dr. Brand was able to observe the Creator’s hand at work in the natural world. In this booklet, an excerpt from his book, he draws an extended analogy between the natural gift of good soil and our spiritual growth and nourishment as followers of Christ. Enjoy this delightful devotional study.
This special evangelistic edition of Our Daily Bread is designed for those who love the outdoor sports of hunting and fishing. Our Daily Bread Outdoor Edition includes devotional thoughts written by a variety of authors, and features two well-known outdoor journalists, Tracy Breen and Charles Alsheimer.