Faith in the Forest: Learning from the Hygrocybe
Written by Geri VonGrey
Just a few weeks ago, I found myself deep in the Porcupine Mountains of Michigan, backpacking with friends. This was the kind of trip where you carried everything on your back: food, tents, gear, and toilet paper - the whole lot. Before agreeing to go, I battled imposter syndrome. My two friends were in better shape, having run a 50K trail race the previous year, while I quietly wondered if I could keep up. However, my husband reminded me of a simple truth: that my favorite place is anywhere outside! He encouraged me, saying God would use this journey to teach me about myself, others, and the Lord. My husband’s wisdom convinced me, so I said yes. We packed our gear and set off on our grand adventure.
The first few miles of the hike, I obsessed over the terrain, dodging roots, snakes, rocks, and deep mud. I huffed up inclines, trying not to fall behind, my focus glued to the ground. After a mile or two I began to realize how myopic my vision had become. Noticing that I was staring at the ground directly in front of me, plodding along, and wondering when the hike would end. Then I began to reframe my thinking. I let my senses awaken, listening, smelling, and seeing the forest all around me. That’s when I noticed a tiny teacher: a bright red Hygrocybe mushroom, no bigger than a coin, tucked along the trail. I nearly missed it, but its vibrancy caught my eye. That small mushroom became a metaphor, revealing some profound lessons.
The first being that the Hygrocybe (waxcap) is such a small, inconspicuous mushroom that it could easily be overlooked. In this way, it reflects the nature of God’s work in spiritual formation. Spiritual growth is seldom dramatic or immediate. Instead, it happens slowly, quietly, in the ordinary places of life that we might otherwise pass by. This points us back to the truth that God’s presence is not something we rush past, but something we must pause to notice and intentionally participate in.
Secondly, the Hygrocybe reminds us that disconnection from creation, from community, from the sustaining love of God - leads to spiritual barrenness. The waxcap’s visible health and vibrancy depend on the hidden mycelium beneath the soil, a vast network that nourishes and connects it to the surrounding ecosystem. The mushroom flourishes only in living soil, a delicate web of unseen relationships; if the ground is poisoned or the balance disturbed, the waxcap dies. In the same way, the life of faith cannot thrive in isolation. Holiness grows not through independence but through interdependence, where believers support and nurture one another, sustained by the quiet, life-giving work of the Spirit. As the author of Hebrews reminds us, "let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together…" (Heb. 10:24-25, ESV).
Finally, I considered how the Hygrocybe emerges from decay, transforming what’s dying into something alive. Sanctification follows this pattern of renewal. As the mushroom draws life from decomposing matter, the Spirit cultivates holiness from our surrendered places. The decay of pride becomes patience; the death of self-will fosters gentleness. By grace, what’s broken in us becomes soil for spiritual growth, reflecting God’s renewing presence. This isn’t accidental; rather, it is sacramental, a daily dying and rising. As Paul writes, “Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16, ESV).
Lifting my eyes from the trail, from my worries and insecurities, I saw that faith demands intentional attention. Walking with awareness is harder than focusing on only what’s in front of us, but the former is much more beautiful. Pausing to notice a tiny Hygrocybe revealed the depth and vibrancy of God’s presence. The mushroom taught me that spiritual life is rarely easy or obvious, but always worth the effort. Growth, renewal, and holiness unfold when we look up, step beyond ourselves, and participate in the quiet, sustaining work of the Spirit.
PS: We did make it to our destination…here is a photo to prove it! It was worth it.