Last summer, my family and I went for a bike ride along a trail on our way to one of our favorite lunch spots. We were so close to one of my engineering projects that I thought we should stop so I could show them. 

We rode up to the bridge over Plaster Creek, a polluted creek in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The flowers in the recently re-created floodplain were in full bloom, covering the landscape with yellow, purple, and white hues, and providing food and homes to all kinds of pollinators. The water in the creek flowed low and clear, not murky brown like it used to. 

I saw the beauty and exclaimed, “Look, I made this!” 

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I paused because I knew that I didn’t really make this. I didn’t make the seeds that grew into flowers; and I didn’t plant the seeds or water them. I didn’t move the soil around to create the floodplain, nor invite the bees to collect pollen. No, I didn’t make this, but I did do something. In fact, a lot of people did something to bring about this beautiful scene.

I got off my bike and walked along the stream, pointing out its transformation while I reflected on the many hands that went into this project. 

With the help of scientists and geomorphologists from the state governmental environmental department, we grew to understand recent changes in the stream and categorized the streambank stability. Calvin University research students helped to measure the cross-section dimensions and record flow patterns over several years. A survey team collected points to mark the elevation and location of features such as the stream banks, trees, and utilities. Then a drafter turned these points into a map showing the contours and features. We put this into a computer model to estimate what changes in water levels we could expect with different stream modifications. 

Residents who live near the creek met with us for countless meetings to ask questions and share their dreams of a different creek while the ground crew shared their desire for well-kept landscapes. An engineering firm collaborated on the design and together we put these ideas for a stable creek onto paper. Plaster Creek Stewards staff added a planting plan so there would be appropriate native species for both wet and dry areas that would bloom throughout the entire growing season. 

Once approved, we handed these plans over to the contractor. The contractor used a different set of tools – excavators and dump trucks, large earth movers controlled with the precision of a finger, to move the soil to match the contours on the plans. An amazing skill! 

The native plants we used in this project are species that Native Americans respected, utilized, and tended for centuries. The knowledge and love they have of these plants was passed along from generation to generation for centuries, keeping the lineages alive. These plants have acclimated to the local soil and climate and support local insects. During European settling of the Grand Rapids area, much of the land where these plants grow was disturbed. Their locations were preserved, however, through the determination of people like the late nineteenth century botanist Emma Cole and the current Chairman of the Grand River Bands of Ottawa Indians. 

Plaster Creek Stewards staff and volunteers collected seeds from these ancient plants and propagated them in our greenhouse. Many more volunteers cared for these seedlings, transplanted, and watered them until they were robust plugs ready to populate a newly constructed floodplain. 

Without this preservation work of plants and places, the floodplain could not have been filled with tens of thousands of native plants, carefully planted by hundreds of volunteers from all over the watershed. Residents embraced the noise, mess, and increased traffic with joy, even bringing out cookies and offering a helping hand or a friendly greeting.

And who paid for this transformation? Whether we wanted to or not, we all did. This project was financed by a state grant that receives federal money from the Environmental Protection Agency funded by our tax dollars. In that sense, we all participated in this project and the restoration of the creek.

As I continued to walk, I looked closely at the water path and the visible pebbles forming little ridges on the stream bottom. I didn’t show these features on the construction plans. I didn’t direct anyone to place pebbles here. No, these are the results of rainwater moving from the land surface into and through the creek. 

Creeks move soil and gravel. That’s a critical function of a stream which is how fertile deltas and gravel habitat are created. The faster the water flows, the larger sized particles it can move. The problem of sediment transport occurs when there is too much water that erodes the stream banks. These banks are often full of fine soil particles that when moved, coat the creek bottom and prevent colonization by aquatic insects, who prefer pebble habitats. 

With this recreated creek and floodplain, however, the water behaves differently. As the water in the main channel rises and gets faster, it overflows into the floodplain where it spreads out and slows down. The finer sands and silts are deposited on the floodplain, where the movement is slowed, while the pebbled and gravel settles and stays uncovered in the main channel. This process restores lost habitat. 

Another important phenomenon occurs as well. Instead of the creek always flowing for the full width of the main channel, some of the sand and gravel form little bars and islands that push the water in slightly different directions, creating sinuosity and meanders. The meanders create little pools and rifles that we often see in natural, undisturbed streams. 

This wasn’t engineering or landscape design, this was God’s creation at work. We provided work and provided space for God’s great work to be done, for creation to function as God intended. It is just like Wendall Berry describes in his poem, Whatever is foreseen in joy: 

“And yet no leaf or grain is filled
By work of ours; the field is tilled
And left to grace. That we may reap,
Great work is done while we’re asleep.”

As we rode off again to get lunch, I found myself more appropriately thinking, “Wow, we made this.”

It took all of us. God who set in motion seeds to grow and creeks to sort soil that provide habitat, and people who have been created in God’s image with different gifts and the ability to join those gifts together to do good work. While only creatures ourselves, we have the ability to co-create with God; to work carefully with creation so that creation’s voice can more clearly praise the God who loves us all. In doing so, we catch a glimpse of the coming kingdom.