Tag Archives: Heaven

173. I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. ~Lucy Maud Montgomery

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Autumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence
on the mind of taste and tenderness,
that season which has drawn from every poet,
worthy of being read,
some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling.
~Jane Austen

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While the summer sun reigned high in the heavens, the trailing vines of Cucurbita inched along the ground.  Its flowers were pollinated, and then its fruits began to grow.  Tendrils on the vines helped anchor the rambler and protect them from the wind.  The leaves of the vines absorbed energy from the sun to spur the growth of the fruits, and the stems worked like umbilical cords to bring nutrients to the fruits while the thin and shiny outer layer of the fruits protected them from insects and disease.  As summer wound down, the ripening gourds began turning a spectacular color of orange, at least the traditional ones.  Then after the autumnal equinox, north winds venturing out of their haunts moved southward.  Along the way they gathered a fair measure of clouds; rain from the clouds greened the landscape; days became noticeably shorter; temperatures dropped below previous three digit highs; skies regained deeper hues; dawns became chillier; and the inimitable pumpkin, having been nipped off its vine, appeared on roadside stands and in grocery stores.  How I love Octobers and the whole autumn experience; hardly a day goes by that I don’t turn my eyes upward in praise, drop to my knees in thanksgiving, and wish I could throw my arms in adoration around  the Lord of all Creation!

May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you.  Then the land will yield its harvest, and God, our God, will bless us.  ~Psalm 67:5-6  ✝

170. Ones sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes. ~From THE LITTLE PRINCE by Antoine de Saint Exupéry

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Every man knows well enough
that he is a unique being, only once on this earth;
and by no extraordinary chance will such
a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity,
ever be put together again a second time.
~Friedrich Nietzsche

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Like the child in the photograph holds her ball, God holds us in the palm of His mighty hands.  And since His Word tells us we are made in His image, that speaks to me of the vast and diverse abilities of our Maker.  It tells me He is bigger and more powerful than I could ever imagine.  It tells me there is a distinct reason for the uniqueness of every created entity.  And because we are made in the image of a loving and good God, it tells me I am meant to be in relationships that deepen my reverence and affection for others and my Creator.  It tells me that what my eyes see should be filtered first through my heart of hearts and not through bias or preconceived notions.  It tells me that what I am matters only in the light of what I do for everyone and everything that crosses my path, be they flowers, or creatures, or people.  If not so, then why do things and people I cherish remain tied to my heart in some way even when they are not in sight, and why is it that what’s tied to my heart is far more than just the sight of them.

When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars which You have set in place, what is mankind that You are mindful of them, human beings that You care for them?  ~Psalm 8:3-4  ✝

164. Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love — that makes life and nature harmonize. ~George Eliot

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Delicious autumn!
My very soul is wedded to it,
and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth
seeking the successive autumns.
~George Eliot

**I was hoping you could see that the morning glory below, heavy with dew after the rain, was an awesome, pink delight to behold, but the image is too smalll here for you to see its alluring sparkle.

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Northerly winds in the night blew our gray, rain-bearing clouds away, and the day dawned under a fresh, China blue sky.  Layers of dust that had been blowing in on southerly winds for weeks were washed away, sent back to the soil from whence they came.  As a result heaven’s dome along with the landscape looked sparkling clean and pristine.  In the day’s early light growing green things shined greener, new growth pushed up on rose canes, seedlings appeared in soil once parched and cracked by summer’s fiendish assaults.   Wildlife, though always smaller in number in October, flew, crawled, and buzzed with renewed energy and enthusiasm in the aftermath of the recent slow, soaking rains.  And so with a bit of an almost frosty nip in the air, this day evolved into our first quintessential, autumn day.  How, then, on such a day, could the early call to venture out in the yard, camera in hand, have been ignored?  Or how could it have been a surprise that the vignettes I found were so exquisite that all I could muster, with eyes blurred by joyful tears, was praise for the Holy One whose presence amidst the glory was sweetly palpable?

Let them give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind.  Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of his works with songs of joy.  ~Psalm 107:21-22  ✝

163. The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature for the tangled passions of humans. ~Sherwood Smith

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The richness of the rain made me feel safe and protected;
I have always considered the rain to be
healing–a blanket–the comfort of a friend.
Without at least some rain…I yearn
for the vital, muffling gift of falling water.
~Douglas Coupland

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It’s apparent after yesterday’s post that I love everything about the phenomenon of rain–the sound of it, the sensual feel of it, the look of it, the smell of it.  But when it comes to rain, it is not simply a love affair in the heart.  It is a worshipful adoration I feel deep down in my soul.  Especially after the long of absence of rain from my world, it is extremely comforting and reassuring to hear the “pitter-pattering” sounds of it falling on the ground, on the rooftop, on the window panes.  Watching it makes me feel as though I’m witnessing, first hand, cascading miracles; listening to it washes through my being like a healing balm that quiets the disturbing sense of separateness from the sacred;  the “sweet tears of heaven” cannot even be ignored in my sleep.

Praise the Lord!  Autumn’s rain has furthered Spring’s promise.  Rejoice.  The evidence of God’s faithfulness has blanketed the land.  Rejoice.  God’s in His heaven and our Savior sits at His right hand.  Rejoice.  The Creator of heaven and earth adores and watches over all that He has made.  Rejoice.

This is the day which the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.  ~Psalm 118:24  ✝

162. All was silent as before — All was silent save the dripping rain. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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But the true lover of rain…has a deep inner enjoyment of the rain, as rain, and his sense of its beauty drinks it in as thirstily as does the drinking earth.  It refreshes and cools his heart and brain; he longs to go forth into the fields, to feel its steady stream, to scent its fragrance; to stand under some heavy-foilaged chestnut-tree, and hear the rushing music on the crowded leaves.  ~John Richard Vernon

**One of my readers just sent me to a website which has a slowed down audio clip of crickets chirping.   It’s amazing to hear that they sound like an angelic choir reminiscent of gregrorian chanters.  If you’d like to listen, you’ll find it at:  www.soundcloud.com/acornavi/robert-wilson-crickets-audio

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I like to think of the universe as a cosmic temple and of planet earth as a sanctuary in that temple.  Though not given the power of speech as such, rain and other weather-related phenomena exhibit distinctive voices under heaven’s dome, and as they fall from earth’s chaotic atmosphere, they often blend their unique voices with other holy sounds in the natural world.  I believe that in that sacred chorus is a call to humanity to seek the Maker of the temple because God not only hardwired man with a desire to connect with other human beings but also with a  longing to seek and connect with Him whose breath gave him life. To that end man was given eyes to witness the sacraments of heaven and earth, ears to hear the chants of their hallowed voices, intellect to question and understand much of what is seen and heard, and a heart that in due time turns from irreverence to longing.  Tecumseh, a leader of the Shawnee, said, “Nature is so powerful, so strong.  Capturing the essence is not easy – your work becomes a dance with light and the weather.  It takes you to a place within yourself.”

Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.  ~Deuteronomy 32:2  ✝

148. If the sight of blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has the power to move you, if the simple things in nature have a message you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive. ~Eleanora Duse

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Every vine climbing and blossoming
tells of love and joy.
~Robert G. Ingersoll

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If your soul is indeed alive, you come to realize that like all else in Creation, vines tell also of the nearness of God and the way that He wraps His arms around His children in order to keep them close to Him.  Simply put, whether acknowledged by all or not, mankind is inextricably linked to the Maker of heaven and earth, and because of His supporting and sustaining provisions our souls are eventually drawn into His holy web of life and the Light.  C. S. Lewis said that “Jesus was either a liar, a lunatic, or who He said He was.”  Mr. Lewis’ soul and mine have trusted Jesus to be who He said He was.   Thus I rejoice when He, the Messiah,  tells me:

“I am the bread of life.”
“I am the light of the world.”
“I am the gate for the sheep.”
“I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd gives his life for the sheep.”
“I am the resurrection, and the life.”
“I am the way, the truth, and the life.”
“I am the true vine.”

Return to us, O God Almighty!  Look down from heaven and see!  Watch over this vine, the root your right hand has planted, the son you have raised up for yourself.  ~Psalm 80:14-15  ✝

*The flower in the photo is Thunbergia Grandiflora (commonly called Bengal Clock vine or Sky Flower vine)

143. The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

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The earth has received the embrace of the sun
and we shall see the result of that love.
~Hunkesni (Sitting Bull, Lakota Sioux holy man)

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The flowers in these photos are the result of another year’s embrace of the sun.  It will be the remembrance of them and the haunting song of their colors, separately and collectively, that will lift my spirits when in the months to come I traverse winter’s “vale of grief.”  If my memory of the colors should grow dim, I’ll have but to look heavenward and watch for them in the rising and the setting of the sun on days when a window in the gloom has been opened.  In those moments when they streak the eastern or western horizon in a blaze of glory I’ll remember that as the earth tilts back toward the sun, the sun’s embrace will bring the flowers, their lovely colors, and their songs back.  When they return and the air is filled with the music of many melodies, my prayer for all of us will be. . .

 That the morning sun stirs us with gladness from our beds,
That the winds of March move us happily along the new year’s road,
That the rains of April renew our strength,
That the flowers and colors of May captivate our sight,
That the summer inflame our zeal,
That autumn’s colors stimulate our dreams,
That the silver moon make us wiser yet,
That the Lord keep us young at heart so that
we are full of life, laughter, song, and gratitude
for the holiness and goodness in all that the sun and His love embraces.
~Edited and adapted from a blessing by Fr. Andrew Greeley

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.  There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.  In the heavens He has pitched a tent for the sun, which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course.  ~Psalm 19:1-5   ✝

141. Colors are the smiles of nature. ~Leigh Hunt

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Of all God’s gifts to the sighted man,
color is the holiest, the most divine, the most solemn.
~John Ruskin

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To the sighted man color is emphatically holy, but I believe the sanctity of it goes deeper than the eye.  Deep within the human soul color is recognized as tidings from the Father of our world and the message is twofold.  Color is a hallowed melody meant not just for the eyes but for the ears as well.  Pablo Picasso touched on this when he asked, “Why do two colors, one put next to the other, sing?” He couldn’t explain it nor can I, but there are color combinations that compose the sweetest of songs.  Pink and blue is one of those duos, and together they pen a heavenly harmony reminiscent of sapphire skies streaked with luscious pink ribbons of light.

The Lord reigns, let the earth be glad; let the distant shores rejoice.  ~Psalm 97:1  ✝

139. The roots of all goodness lie in the soil of appreciation for goodness. ~Dalai Lama

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Every day that we wake up
is a good day.
Every breath that we take
is filled with hope for a better day.
Every word that we speak
is a chance to change what is bad into something good.
~Walter Mosley

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Scripture says that at the end of each day of Creation’s beginnings, God looked at what He made and saw that it was good.  Mankind, then, draws every breath amidst that goodness.  Yes, there are days fraught with trials and grief, but they alter not the fabric in which all life was woven.  Goodness and the miraculous are as constant as the sun, moon, and stars, and man has a chance of finding and being blessed by God’s graciousness when he lets go of his yesterdays and looks only to the day at hand.  If his cup is to be filled with the promised goodness and mercy, he must empty the chalice of his being on a daily basis.  Otherwise the bitter stings of the past will poison the mix and rob him of all that could have been.  Man’s days have a planned shape in the soil of goodness, and its bounty rises to the surface, not because of what he is or what he does, but because of who God is and what He’s already done.

God saw all that He had made, and it was very good. . .Thus the heavens and earth were completed in their vast array.  ~Genesis 1:31a, Genesis 2:1  ✝

135. As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them… ~Henry Ward Beecher

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Eagle of flowers! I see thee stand
And on the sun’s noon-glory gaze;
With eye like his, thy lids expand,
And fringe their disk with golden rays:
Though fix’d on earth, in darkness rooted there
Light is thy element, thy dwelling air
Thy prospect heaven.
~The Sunflower by James Montgomery, British editor and poet

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The sunflower with its “gaudy crown of gold” courts the heavenly expanse in search of the sun.  But is that iconic golden spectacle seeking to be prospered by the sun a single flower?  No, each sunflower is actually a cluster of sometimes more than 2,000 small flowers all growing together to mimic the sun and harvest its light.  Amazingly, at maturity some flower heads of the sunflower measure 2 feet across while the plants that hold them up sometimes grow as high as 18 feet.  Henry Ward Beecher additionally said all flowers “have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals.  Some of them seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others again are plain, honest, and upright, like the broad-faced sunflower. . .”  I agree and adore the plain honesty and uprightness of the sunflower, but in them I also see a touch of elegance in their statuesque stance in the landscape.

This is what the Lord says to me: “I will remain quiet and will look on from my dwelling place, like shimmering heat in the sunshine, like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest.”  ~Isaiah 18:4   ✝