Out my morning window, spread before me like a banquet feast, each element draws my heart to the Artist above.
Green shoots poking up from the no longer frozen earth, growing taller each day.
Lively finches, so proud of their spring feather finery—having cast off the drab winter grey-green for a brilliant yellow.
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… Romans 1:20
This classroom outside my window, wrapped around my home, leading to my workplace and beyond, has much to teach me about God. When I look, and seek to understand, I am witness to new hope,
power, color, vibrancy. The symphony of sound reflects the very nature of our Holy Composer. It is the songs of mud peepers, crickets, and birds, and knowing that somewhere a lion gives forth a deep-throated roar, that sing to my spirit of God’s aliveness. As I swat spring’s first emergent gnats, I see God’s unity of character— the interdependency of each part. The textures of stone and land cry out His strength. Seasonal ebb and flow show His slow and patient work over time. Ferocious storms provide the contrast, shouting out His in-the-moment awesome power. Minute detail of petal and wing, as well as sweeping landscape, are glimpses of the One who made it. The same One who holds us all.
So they are without excuse, for although they knew God they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him…Romans 1:20
So I am without excuse. I know God and am known by God. I am compelled to honor him as God-for all of who He is and I am not. I am bound to overflow in thanks to Him.
I realize that Paul is acknowledging that his audience lived in a world entranced by physical idols, crafted by human hands upon which to direct the glory that is rightly God’s and His alone. But am I not also guilty of sometimes exchanging the glory of our immortal God for an image that merely resembles Him? Without carving wood or cutting stone, can’t I do this by daily exchanging His glory and the potential of His working for a box to put Him in, that is defined by my human perceptions?
There are moments, and they come more often the closer I position myself to Him, that I nearly split open with thanksgiving or in awe of all He is. When I look around me, to understand, to really see Him, it washes over me, like God’s glory that passed over Moses in the desert. Covered with God’s hand, he was allowed a glimpse of God’s back—a tantalizing understanding of Who He Is.
It is in these moments, that I see God—a tantalizing glimpse of my own.
Rocks cry out. Waters tumble, mountains quake, clouds split open and thrust down spears of light, ground splits open to reveal shoots of life. All of that is who He is. And that God, my God, is revealed to me daily. That God, my God, our God, is the One who
Binds up the broken
Heals the hearts of families
Opens some doors and closes others
Melts the stubborn wills that shut Him out.
The evidence cries out for me to understand.
I refuse to settle for an image that merely resembles my Creator. And He refuses to let me.
He answered: “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” Luke 19:40
But He said, “The things that are impossible with people are possible with God.” Luke 18:27
…and it will come about, while My glory is passing by, that I will put you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with My hand until I have passed by. Exodus 33:22