It is a glorious privilege
to live, to know, to act, to listen, to behold, to love.
To look up at the blue summer sky;
to see the sun sink slowly beyond the line of the horizon;
to watch the worlds come twinkling into view,
first one by one, and the myriads that no man can count,
and lo! the universe is white with them;
and you and I are here.
~Marco Morrow
It is God’s privilege to conceal things and the king’s privilege to discover them. ~Proverbs 25:2 ✝
With the birth of the creatures there is
the emergence of seeing, hearing,
smelling, tasting, and touching.
The light of the sun and the whiteness
of the moon can now be seen.
The wind blowing through the leaves
of the trees and the crashing
of ocean waves can be heard.
The early morning fragrance of
the earth can be smelled.
Its fruits can be tasted and
its textures touched.
~Excerpted lines by J. Philip Newell
Springtime is so much “a showing forth of the mystery of God” that if one wants to know more of the Creator, all he/she needs do is pull up a chair in a garden and watch the year’s first season unfold. Seeking the goodness of God and what He made by being still therein and listening to the Holy Spirit as well as Creation’s rhythms is a way of bringing the Heavenly Father closer. In that nearness one is then able to look through eyes that recognize the depth of His and Creation’s goodness.
And the LORD said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. ~Exodus 33:19 ✝
We need a renaissance of wonder.
We need to renew, in our hearts and in our souls,
the deathless dream, the eternal poetry, the perennial sense
that life is miracle and magic.
~E. Merrill Root
Since it is year’s end, we have entered the season of somber gardens, short days, low temperatures, and more-gray-than-blue skies. The reckless abandon of the growing seasons has yielded to deepening winter’s, unadventurous restraint. But, while looking out a window brings into view only the barrenness of winter, an actual venture out into its domain can expose wondrous sights like the seed pod in the photograph. What a treat to see wondrous silken filaments that look like angel hair releasing seeds that are proof of a continuously running thread in Creation’s tapestry. Such finds are tangible fragments of God’s imagination buried deep in the mystery of nature, and the aura of holiness that surrounds them often leaves onlookers amazed and awestruck. These miraculous strands are the same kind of threads that govern the ceaseless ebbing and flowing of oceanic waves, the waxing and waning of the moon, the rising and setting of the sun, the birth and death of life forms, and the endless repetition of the seasons.
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.
It is the source of all true art and all science.
He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder
and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.
~Albert Einstein
Rediscovering awe helps us appreciate the vast wonders of what the Creator’s mind imagined, what His words spoke, and what His hands created. It bring us closer to God and restores our childlike joy and zeal for life. The unfathomable mysteries of life are sacred benedictions; their blessings encourage us to stay in the Lord’s keeping and continue searching for His intent for our lives.
Who among the gods is like you, LORD? Who is like you—majestic in holiness, awesome in glory, working wonders? ~Exodus 15:11 ✝
**”if an object or expression can bring about, within us, a sense of serene melancholy and a spiritual longing, then that object could be said to be wabi-sabi.” “Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.” The photo of the seed pod is a excellent example of Wabi Sabi.
Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Our area, that had been desperately in need of rain, was the beneficiary of fortuitous events on Christmas Eve. Could it be that the celebration of the Messiah’s coming the night before was what prompted the blessing of rain as well as the magical, miracle of snow. So many voices were lifted up in praise and worship of Him that our petitions for rain might have been heard as well. Occasionally on cold, crisp wintry days or nights layers of snow blanket God’s creation even here in north central Texas, but this time we received a strange mixture of “wet” goodness. At eventide sparkling stars punctuated the ancient moon in heaven’s blackened dome, but during the course of the Messiah’s birthday, clouds laden with moistures moved in, flashes of lightning lit up the sky, a good amount of rain was garnered, hail fell, and finally snow covered the landscape. If this is not an assortment of Divine providence mixed with earthly “enchantment,” then as Priestley says, “where is such to be found?”
Praise His Holy Name!
In the garden, Autumn is, indeed the crowning glory of the year,
bringing us the fruition of months of thought, and care, and toil.
~Rose G. Kingsley, British Gardener and Writer
Now that the year has grown long in the tooth, the migratory birds have moved on to warmer lands. But the birds who overwinter here are still very visible and busy. However, on the chillier days they, like me, “remain perched” early in the morning and later when the sun is well over the rooftops. Nevertheless, in spite of our periodic and combined lethargy, we still manage to be out and working during the warmer parts of the day. The “common feast for all” the garden spreads may be nearly gone and the bird’s tired wings along with my tired feet may drag somewhat, but autumn’s remaining golden glory continues to quicken our spirits. In fact even after winter ravages the land, we, man and beast alike, who live close to the soil will venture out on the occasional warm day to search with hungry eyes for any signs of what we know lies waiting to emerge from beneath the surface of things.
Autumn’s song is indeed “a rich and lusty melody.” It induces a healthy renewal in bodies wilted by summer’s long siege of torrid heat, and it creates a restful peacefulness that washes away the “fret and fever of life.” “It’s jolly voice” sings a comforting song of promise that speaks of God’s circadian rhythms of life–the rhythm of changing seasons, busyness followed by stillness, “youth’s energy followed by age’s measured pace.”
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. . . ~Ecclesiastes 3:1 ✝
Grace comes into the soul, as the morning sun into the world;
first a dawning, then a light,
and at last the sun in his full and excellent brightness.
~Thomas Adams
There is a sort of pregnant pause at the exact moment light splits the darkness. It’s a brief moment in which all creation seems to bow in a great and reverent silence. It’s as if all those who witness the light’s return praise the Holy Feet on which it comes. From my window I see this gladsome response as birds lift up and take to wing and as the squirrels leap high in the trees before the deliberate busyness of their respective days begin. Could it be then that our first response should be to celebrate the gift of the new day and thank its Holy Giver before ere we begin anew. It was certainly so with the Celts who believed creation was not simply just a gift, but also “a self-giving of God whose image was to be found deep within all living things.” Why then isn’t that the order of the day in our world? Perhaps it’s because modern man lives so far away from the natural world that he feels little to no reverence for Creation and therefore has become alienated from God’s living presence. J. Philip Newell put it this way, “divorced from the brilliance of the first day man lives in a type of exile from his true self and what is deepest in creation.” He explains further that in this exile, he chooses to ignore the yearning for the light that stirs within himself and chooses instead to follow life’s superficial distractions.
But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you. . . ~Job 12:7 ✝
She sat down in a weed patch, her elbows on her knees,
and kept her eyes on the small mysterious world of the ground.
In the shade and sun of grass blade forests,
small living things had their metropolis.
~Nancy Price
In and around blossoming things there is another mysterious metropolis. This one is above the soil, and therein airborne things move around yearning to “possess the sweet of every flower that blooms.” In that realm two simple equations are in place: a) if there are no flowers there are no pollinators; b) if there are no pollinators there are no flowers, no fruits, no crops. The hum or buzz of a pollinating agent and a flower’s blooming go hand in hand; together they commit reproductive acts of love as they dance the sacred dance of life orchestrated by the Lord. In so doing they “remind us that there are other voices, other rhythms, other strivings, and other fulfillments. . .” in God’s grand plan.
Recently in a National Geographic snippet on the internet, the narrator remarked that present-day humanity is the recipient of a 400,000,000 year old legacy bequeathed by earth. Imagine that! For all those years the sun has not failed to rise and set at its appointed time, fruits and crops have not failed to burst forth and ripen, and the earth has not failed to make its trip around the sun. One season has followed another repeating the Genesis story over and over again as per the Lord’s plan. Like the fruits and flowers and pollinators, our time here is very brief, and we who are fashioned by the same holy Hands as the sun and earth are no less adored and significant in our loving Father’s eyes.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. . . ~Ecclesiastes 3:1 ✝
Sacred Touches 