I’ve heard it said that God uses the splendor of nature to bring healing to a hurting world. Its beauty breaks through our pain and our brokenness, giving our soul comfort and connection with something far greater. Since the beginning of time, man has gazed upon creation and known, “I am not alone.” As Paul told the Romans, God has made his presence clear. “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (1:20)
Certainly there exist places that have received their portion of beauty in greater measure—like the Grand Canyon, the Swiss Alps or the entire island of Maui (all of which I’ve seen). We may travel to and yearn for glimpses that inspire, but most of us live among scenery far more ordinary and much less breathtaking. While the “eternal power and divine nature” of God may not barrage our senses every time we venture outside, it’s there nonetheless. Sometimes, we just have to look a little harder.
No matter what struggles hinder us, what oppression crushes us, what brokenness shatters us, God continually reveals Himself in the everyday—through the shooting stars that streak across the night sky; the sun’s rays as they visibly split through distant clouds; the purple-pink radiance lavishly painted by the setting sun; tender buds emerging from long dormant branches; waves crashing onto the shore; birds chirping their pronouncement of spring. I could go on and on. Certainly you could as well. Pause to think of the little reminders you’ve encountered even in the past few days.
For me, I recall the snow. Last Tuesday the snow started in the morning. The weathermen forecast an inch or so, basically a non-event—good news for some, a major disappointment to my snow-loving, still-waiting-for-a-BIG-snowstorm self. But throughout the day flakes continued to gently fall, gradually accumulating on the ground. As I worked at my computer, I delighted at the picture-perfect scene developing outside my window. When the kids got home from school, they quickly traded backpacks and lunchboxes for snow pants and boots.
The next morning we awoke to find our world covered in a blanket of fluffy, white flakes. My winter wish was granted (and with a delayed school opening, so had the kids'.) Whether you find snow a major inconvenience or a glorious gift, one simply has to soak in such a scene to marvel at its splendor and feel the embrace of the Almighty.
To all of you, especially my warm-weather friends in places like Florida or the desert, I want to share my winter gift with you.
Certainly there exist places that have received their portion of beauty in greater measure—like the Grand Canyon, the Swiss Alps or the entire island of Maui (all of which I’ve seen). We may travel to and yearn for glimpses that inspire, but most of us live among scenery far more ordinary and much less breathtaking. While the “eternal power and divine nature” of God may not barrage our senses every time we venture outside, it’s there nonetheless. Sometimes, we just have to look a little harder.
No matter what struggles hinder us, what oppression crushes us, what brokenness shatters us, God continually reveals Himself in the everyday—through the shooting stars that streak across the night sky; the sun’s rays as they visibly split through distant clouds; the purple-pink radiance lavishly painted by the setting sun; tender buds emerging from long dormant branches; waves crashing onto the shore; birds chirping their pronouncement of spring. I could go on and on. Certainly you could as well. Pause to think of the little reminders you’ve encountered even in the past few days.
For me, I recall the snow. Last Tuesday the snow started in the morning. The weathermen forecast an inch or so, basically a non-event—good news for some, a major disappointment to my snow-loving, still-waiting-for-a-BIG-snowstorm self. But throughout the day flakes continued to gently fall, gradually accumulating on the ground. As I worked at my computer, I delighted at the picture-perfect scene developing outside my window. When the kids got home from school, they quickly traded backpacks and lunchboxes for snow pants and boots.
The next morning we awoke to find our world covered in a blanket of fluffy, white flakes. My winter wish was granted (and with a delayed school opening, so had the kids'.) Whether you find snow a major inconvenience or a glorious gift, one simply has to soak in such a scene to marvel at its splendor and feel the embrace of the Almighty.
To all of you, especially my warm-weather friends in places like Florida or the desert, I want to share my winter gift with you.
The snow gathers.
Gradually building.
Awakening us to a world that invigorates, celebrates and glorifies.
Transforming the overlooked into the overwhelming.
Gradually building.
Awakening us to a world that invigorates, celebrates and glorifies.
Transforming the overlooked into the overwhelming.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
But this weekend brought temps in the fifties.
As quickly as it came, the snow melted into a fond memory.
Leaving behind scattered reminders.
As quickly as it came, the snow melted into a fond memory.
Leaving behind scattered reminders.
.
.
Today I will look for new evidence.
Lord, where will we find you?
Note: This week marks my one year anniversary as a blogger. Stop back this week for my mini-celebration that will include a giveaway or two!
