At the end is the beginning
At the end of our abilities, God’s abilities begin. At the end of a breath a new breath begins. I am at the end and because of the end, I can see the beginning.
The mysteries of our God wrap around the edges of understanding. They wrap around the edges and leak into comprehension. He uses the weak to confuse the strong. How does the Lord of Lords direct a million and more lives knowing just at the moment one of us recognize our deep need for guidance? Knowing the moment we cry out and knowing the answer even when we can’t find the question.
How did He conceive of such a plan as sending His own Son to be the perfect sacrifice? He despised the sacrificing of children and yet He did not even spare His own son. And then, right before there is hope of comprehending just a bit of this mystery, there is the whisper. The still voice that says, this sacrifice was not permanent. This sacrifice became the greatest victory. The victory that reaches down, grabs the dead by the hand and raises him to the place of highest honor. At then end, the beginning came.
Now, laying down to sleep in the quiet after many storms, in my bed, in my house filled with my things and my family, now laying down to sleep I feel the end of my “self”. This self that is being lifted off and away like the roof painfully separated by the wind. Yet at each layer lifted away something more wonderful is revealed. Not a piece of me that is more wonderful but a piece of Him. How is it that I should be so blessed? So blessed to lose pieces of myself that I might be clothed more and more in His righteousness.
This is my God who has overcome all evil. This is my God who loves each of us so much that at every end we find a brilliant new beginning. This is our God who every moment gives us new beginnings.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Here
I'm sitting here in the same place where days ago my pain was so intense. Just hours ago, hours and minutes and seconds ago, I couldn't breathe because every inhalation felt like betrayal. I'm sitting here and rejoicing.
Watching our Father work is better than watching the greatest chef prepare a meal. Watching the pieces come together where there was no earthly way for them to fit is more amazing than watching any chopper OCC has ever built come together in the midst of family drama. Our God is so much bigger than we can ever comprehend.
I'm sitting here in the same place where just hours ago I prayed the prayer I heard on the radio the day before things fell apart. The preacher said "When you talk to God, tell Him: you told me to do this, now tell me how to get through it." I'm not sure what else he said because all I could here was that line. Hours later I said "Lord, You told me to do this. Now tell me how to make it through." He said go.
Every step seemed more than I could possibly take. But, He said go. I took each step. I remember some of them. The ones where I told my foot "move" and He moved it because I couldn't. I prayed over and over "You said do it, help me through it". He didn't need the reminder but I did.
Today I wore mascara for the first time in a week. When I woke up this morning I knew the steps would be easier. I thought about walking on water. I thought about how some days, you step out of the boat and are swallowed by the waves. I thought about other days when you step out of the boat and stay dry for a moment. One day I will step out of the boat and fly.
I'm sitting in the place where my heart felt more pain than I thought was possible. I'm sitting here hours, minutes, and seconds away from that pain and I'm rejoicing. My Father said go and I went. He moved heaven and earth to comfort me.
And the greatest thing is, while He was comforting me He was orchestrating a million other rescues, blessings, healings,comfortings. I am only an example. He will do even more wonderful things for you. I hope I get to watch. I want to see the miracles He works in the lives of everyone.
I'm sitting here in expectation of wonder and awe praising the creator of the universe who loves us!
Watching our Father work is better than watching the greatest chef prepare a meal. Watching the pieces come together where there was no earthly way for them to fit is more amazing than watching any chopper OCC has ever built come together in the midst of family drama. Our God is so much bigger than we can ever comprehend.
I'm sitting here in the same place where just hours ago I prayed the prayer I heard on the radio the day before things fell apart. The preacher said "When you talk to God, tell Him: you told me to do this, now tell me how to get through it." I'm not sure what else he said because all I could here was that line. Hours later I said "Lord, You told me to do this. Now tell me how to make it through." He said go.
Every step seemed more than I could possibly take. But, He said go. I took each step. I remember some of them. The ones where I told my foot "move" and He moved it because I couldn't. I prayed over and over "You said do it, help me through it". He didn't need the reminder but I did.
Today I wore mascara for the first time in a week. When I woke up this morning I knew the steps would be easier. I thought about walking on water. I thought about how some days, you step out of the boat and are swallowed by the waves. I thought about other days when you step out of the boat and stay dry for a moment. One day I will step out of the boat and fly.
I'm sitting in the place where my heart felt more pain than I thought was possible. I'm sitting here hours, minutes, and seconds away from that pain and I'm rejoicing. My Father said go and I went. He moved heaven and earth to comfort me.
And the greatest thing is, while He was comforting me He was orchestrating a million other rescues, blessings, healings,comfortings. I am only an example. He will do even more wonderful things for you. I hope I get to watch. I want to see the miracles He works in the lives of everyone.
I'm sitting here in expectation of wonder and awe praising the creator of the universe who loves us!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Holding Him
How much easier would it have been just to keep holding him? So many days I dreamed of his future, dreamed of his little crooked smile hopping off a dirt bike. I could see him throwing off the helmet in disgust and then grinning when he saw me watching him. The impish glint in his eyes giving away the pleasure he felt in being noticed. Then he would tell me all about the ride.
How much easier would it have been to just keep holding him? Late at night when it’s just the two of us and he reaches over with the big wide mouth kisses. The nights we argued for hours about his going to sleep so I would have a chance of functioning in the morning. How much easier would it be to just keep rocking him? The old recliner clicking with each push, the minutes falling over each other in sleep fog. How much easier would it be?
It’s not a question of love. It’s not easy to understand. The decision hurts as badly as any I could think of making, and yet. Yet, He says this is what we will do. In the moments when my heart is being torn through the layers of bone built to protect it, I feel His peace. When the tears fight for space in the corners of my eyes and there are no words to express how I feel, I can hear the still small voice.
In my doubt He sends a messenger. The messenger is compelled to tell me what I need to hear. The funny thing is, she has no idea what she is saying. I can see the places where she is trying to make sense of the message and I tell her it is ok. The message is heard. This is what He would have me do.
Then I think of Abraham. I see him climbing the mountain, tears rolling silently down his cheeks. I wear my sunglasses to hide the tears from my girls. Did he wear his prayer shawl pulled tight? Faith in God does not keep the tears from falling. Grief happens. It overwhelms us, wraps itself around us. When we think we’ve left it behind, it sneaks around the corners of our minds and whispers words of longing. Then the comfort comes. Sometimes the miracles are not grand rescues. Quite often the miracles come in the form of a friend’s comment that makes the next step possible.
And then there is the top of the mountain. The moment when the knife is drawn and you are waiting, begging to hear “stop”. And it doesn’t come. There is no word. No way to stop until it is done. Abraham heard it but God isn’t asking me to take a life. He’s asking me to save a life. He's telling me to step out in faith that His way is right. Sunglasses can’t hide the anguish and of course, God knows no matter how hard I try to hide.
In the middle of mourning, a glimpse of the joy peeks around the corner of my mind. I think of the mother who will get the phone call. I can almost see her face as the worker tells her “We have a baby for you”. Her mind starts racing. She calls her husband and tells him. Maybe this time it will work. Maybe this is the son we have prayed for. Maybe he is the one we have waited for. Peace comes then.
We have done our job. It was such a hard job but it will soon be done. Now we start the walk down the mountain. We walk in the peace and joy of the Lord. We will miss him. We will miss his kisses, his patty cakes. We won’t ever forget that stubborn streak that drove us crazy but probably kept him alive in awful circumstances. Maybe his real parents will send us cards every once in awhile. Maybe we’ll run into him in the store. We will pray for him no matter what. One day, maybe, he’ll ask about his life and his parents will say ‘you were loved so much’. Maybe. I’ll remember holding him. Holding him in deep silent hours of the night when it’s just the two of us and he smiles that crooked smile.
How much easier would it have been to just keep holding him? Late at night when it’s just the two of us and he reaches over with the big wide mouth kisses. The nights we argued for hours about his going to sleep so I would have a chance of functioning in the morning. How much easier would it be to just keep rocking him? The old recliner clicking with each push, the minutes falling over each other in sleep fog. How much easier would it be?
It’s not a question of love. It’s not easy to understand. The decision hurts as badly as any I could think of making, and yet. Yet, He says this is what we will do. In the moments when my heart is being torn through the layers of bone built to protect it, I feel His peace. When the tears fight for space in the corners of my eyes and there are no words to express how I feel, I can hear the still small voice.
In my doubt He sends a messenger. The messenger is compelled to tell me what I need to hear. The funny thing is, she has no idea what she is saying. I can see the places where she is trying to make sense of the message and I tell her it is ok. The message is heard. This is what He would have me do.
Then I think of Abraham. I see him climbing the mountain, tears rolling silently down his cheeks. I wear my sunglasses to hide the tears from my girls. Did he wear his prayer shawl pulled tight? Faith in God does not keep the tears from falling. Grief happens. It overwhelms us, wraps itself around us. When we think we’ve left it behind, it sneaks around the corners of our minds and whispers words of longing. Then the comfort comes. Sometimes the miracles are not grand rescues. Quite often the miracles come in the form of a friend’s comment that makes the next step possible.
And then there is the top of the mountain. The moment when the knife is drawn and you are waiting, begging to hear “stop”. And it doesn’t come. There is no word. No way to stop until it is done. Abraham heard it but God isn’t asking me to take a life. He’s asking me to save a life. He's telling me to step out in faith that His way is right. Sunglasses can’t hide the anguish and of course, God knows no matter how hard I try to hide.
In the middle of mourning, a glimpse of the joy peeks around the corner of my mind. I think of the mother who will get the phone call. I can almost see her face as the worker tells her “We have a baby for you”. Her mind starts racing. She calls her husband and tells him. Maybe this time it will work. Maybe this is the son we have prayed for. Maybe he is the one we have waited for. Peace comes then.
We have done our job. It was such a hard job but it will soon be done. Now we start the walk down the mountain. We walk in the peace and joy of the Lord. We will miss him. We will miss his kisses, his patty cakes. We won’t ever forget that stubborn streak that drove us crazy but probably kept him alive in awful circumstances. Maybe his real parents will send us cards every once in awhile. Maybe we’ll run into him in the store. We will pray for him no matter what. One day, maybe, he’ll ask about his life and his parents will say ‘you were loved so much’. Maybe. I’ll remember holding him. Holding him in deep silent hours of the night when it’s just the two of us and he smiles that crooked smile.
Friday, April 22, 2011
She takes a pastry from the plate and sits against the wall. She tucks the stray hair back beneath her veil. The hair is slightly damp with sweat. She almost frowns and then the corners of her lips turn up and her eyes begin to water. This is the first wedding she has danced at in many, many years.
The last one was her daughter’s. Oh the girl was beautiful that day. She was so happy. It makes a mother happy to see her daughter happy. They had all danced and laughed. The marriage was good. The two of them still loved each other.
She thought longingly of her husband. He had been a good man too. It was rare though that a couple would live long together-so many diseases and accidents were visited on the people. Her people were better off than most. They at least washed on a regular basis. The Romans-they didn’t.
Ah anyway, she thinks and leans her back against the wall. It is still strange to feel the wall down the length of her back. It wasn’t so long ago that she was bent over, able only to look at her feet. The wall would have touched just her shoulder. The memory of the pain sent a shock through her. She sat up straight. Then, she smiled- a full smile this time.
Jesus! Thank God for Jesus. He saw her in the temple. He saw her bent over, miserable in pain, tired of looking at nasty toes. He saw her! He touched her and her back straightened and she looked HIM in the eyes. They said he said something to her but all she heard was the sound of heaven. Still, late at night she holds on to that little whisper of sound. Oh, to go there someday.
She can still feel where his hand touched her. Her heart jumps every time she thinks of it. Her heart jumps like a silly young girl in love but she knows it is so much more than silly young love.
She snorts a little under her breath and the smile fades. She bites into the pastry and lets the honey fill her mouth. She saw how they treated him. She saw them crucify him. They crucified her savior! She knows that he could have stopped it. She felt that rush of power and heard heaven. He could have stopped it. But he didn’t. She winces at the image in her mind.
As her back teeth grind into the pastry and the sweet honey flows from the layers she relaxes a little. They say he rose from the dead. His followers say they have seen him. They say they have eaten with him. This makes her happy. This makes sense. God could not be killed and she knows he was God. The wrinkles on her forehead spring up at that thought. He was man too. Another bite of the honey and she smiles again. It isn’t for her to understand.
All she has to understand is that because of him she can dance. The tambourines start up again. She rejoices in the strength of her legs and back. She licks the last bits of honey from her fingers and joins the dance.
In her heart, she knows he is alive. She knows that he saved her. She laughs with a heart as light as a child’s. She knows he will call her home when her time is done. Every footstep is a prayer of thanksgiving as she dances at her granddaughter’s wedding.
The last one was her daughter’s. Oh the girl was beautiful that day. She was so happy. It makes a mother happy to see her daughter happy. They had all danced and laughed. The marriage was good. The two of them still loved each other.
She thought longingly of her husband. He had been a good man too. It was rare though that a couple would live long together-so many diseases and accidents were visited on the people. Her people were better off than most. They at least washed on a regular basis. The Romans-they didn’t.
Ah anyway, she thinks and leans her back against the wall. It is still strange to feel the wall down the length of her back. It wasn’t so long ago that she was bent over, able only to look at her feet. The wall would have touched just her shoulder. The memory of the pain sent a shock through her. She sat up straight. Then, she smiled- a full smile this time.
Jesus! Thank God for Jesus. He saw her in the temple. He saw her bent over, miserable in pain, tired of looking at nasty toes. He saw her! He touched her and her back straightened and she looked HIM in the eyes. They said he said something to her but all she heard was the sound of heaven. Still, late at night she holds on to that little whisper of sound. Oh, to go there someday.
She can still feel where his hand touched her. Her heart jumps every time she thinks of it. Her heart jumps like a silly young girl in love but she knows it is so much more than silly young love.
She snorts a little under her breath and the smile fades. She bites into the pastry and lets the honey fill her mouth. She saw how they treated him. She saw them crucify him. They crucified her savior! She knows that he could have stopped it. She felt that rush of power and heard heaven. He could have stopped it. But he didn’t. She winces at the image in her mind.
As her back teeth grind into the pastry and the sweet honey flows from the layers she relaxes a little. They say he rose from the dead. His followers say they have seen him. They say they have eaten with him. This makes her happy. This makes sense. God could not be killed and she knows he was God. The wrinkles on her forehead spring up at that thought. He was man too. Another bite of the honey and she smiles again. It isn’t for her to understand.
All she has to understand is that because of him she can dance. The tambourines start up again. She rejoices in the strength of her legs and back. She licks the last bits of honey from her fingers and joins the dance.
In her heart, she knows he is alive. She knows that he saved her. She laughs with a heart as light as a child’s. She knows he will call her home when her time is done. Every footstep is a prayer of thanksgiving as she dances at her granddaughter’s wedding.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Love-not a good title but compelling
Love is messy. Love makes people do the strangest things.
I knew this one guy. He loved this girl. Well he thought he loved this girl but I guess somewhere deep inside he hadn’t figured out what love was so when he said he loved this girl he probably meant it but …but his meaning was slightly twisted from the original intent of the word. See he said he loved her and he wanted to be with her all the time. And she had no clue. Really, she didn’t know he “loved” her. She knew he would follow her around. Everywhere she went, she would catch a glimpse of him hiding behind something and staring at her. She didn’t think that was love. He thought about her day and night. He talked to his friends about her. The image of her grew and grew in his mind until all he could think about was her. Meanwhile, she’s living life wondering every once in awhile “why is this guy always around”. He thinks she is deliberately avoiding him. He starts to see all her actions as somehow being directed to him. “oh” he thinks, “did you see that? She moved her hair out of her eyes with her left hand. That’s how she shows she’s hiding something.” One day, she brushes her hair out of her eyes with her left hand and he loses it. He comes flying from behind the locker door, screaming at her. She’s so confused. She just looks at him. He thinks that means she hates him. That she’s having an affair. So he throws his fists in the air and screams and screams at her and she runs away. He’s standing there angry and humiliated.
There’s another man. He’s a good man. He loves his wife and children. Every day he goes to work and does what he should do. Some days he messes up. Some days he says the wrong things to his wife. Some days she hears the wrong things. But overall, he’s crazy about her and the kids. He does these amazing things every day. Besides going to work, he comes home even though home is a house full of women and children. He smiles and laughs and plays with them. He takes care of them. He makes sure they have the things they need. He even takes care of himself-and if you know most people, you know that is a very strange thing. If you ask him why, he’ll tell you it’s because of love.
I know this other person. This person was the most powerful person in the world. He was there at the creation of the world and he already knows the end. His dad said there is a very hard thing to do and you are the only who can do it. This person loved so much that he went and did that very hard thing. He became a man and lived here. This was the “here” before indoor toilets and hot showers and clean food. This was the “here” that involved dirt and heat and pain and no iced tea. He lived here as a poor man even though his father was the ruler of the universe. Even stranger than that, he allowed himself to be crucified. He allowed himself to be humiliated and beaten and ridiculed. He did all of it for love. How crazy is that? He didn’t stay dead though. He is alive now. He is alive and he still loves us so much that he changes our lives. Every day he brings us change. The kind of change that makes us better, more loving people. He causes the best changes and the changes that hurt the most.
This is crazy love. This is love that is and will be. This is love demonstrated in all its possibilities. It isn’t sneaking around and wishing. It isn’t flawed. This love doesn’t make mistakes. This kind of love is so much more than we can even think about. This love is messy-covered and washed in blood. This is God love. This is amazing.
I knew this one guy. He loved this girl. Well he thought he loved this girl but I guess somewhere deep inside he hadn’t figured out what love was so when he said he loved this girl he probably meant it but …but his meaning was slightly twisted from the original intent of the word. See he said he loved her and he wanted to be with her all the time. And she had no clue. Really, she didn’t know he “loved” her. She knew he would follow her around. Everywhere she went, she would catch a glimpse of him hiding behind something and staring at her. She didn’t think that was love. He thought about her day and night. He talked to his friends about her. The image of her grew and grew in his mind until all he could think about was her. Meanwhile, she’s living life wondering every once in awhile “why is this guy always around”. He thinks she is deliberately avoiding him. He starts to see all her actions as somehow being directed to him. “oh” he thinks, “did you see that? She moved her hair out of her eyes with her left hand. That’s how she shows she’s hiding something.” One day, she brushes her hair out of her eyes with her left hand and he loses it. He comes flying from behind the locker door, screaming at her. She’s so confused. She just looks at him. He thinks that means she hates him. That she’s having an affair. So he throws his fists in the air and screams and screams at her and she runs away. He’s standing there angry and humiliated.
There’s another man. He’s a good man. He loves his wife and children. Every day he goes to work and does what he should do. Some days he messes up. Some days he says the wrong things to his wife. Some days she hears the wrong things. But overall, he’s crazy about her and the kids. He does these amazing things every day. Besides going to work, he comes home even though home is a house full of women and children. He smiles and laughs and plays with them. He takes care of them. He makes sure they have the things they need. He even takes care of himself-and if you know most people, you know that is a very strange thing. If you ask him why, he’ll tell you it’s because of love.
I know this other person. This person was the most powerful person in the world. He was there at the creation of the world and he already knows the end. His dad said there is a very hard thing to do and you are the only who can do it. This person loved so much that he went and did that very hard thing. He became a man and lived here. This was the “here” before indoor toilets and hot showers and clean food. This was the “here” that involved dirt and heat and pain and no iced tea. He lived here as a poor man even though his father was the ruler of the universe. Even stranger than that, he allowed himself to be crucified. He allowed himself to be humiliated and beaten and ridiculed. He did all of it for love. How crazy is that? He didn’t stay dead though. He is alive now. He is alive and he still loves us so much that he changes our lives. Every day he brings us change. The kind of change that makes us better, more loving people. He causes the best changes and the changes that hurt the most.
This is crazy love. This is love that is and will be. This is love demonstrated in all its possibilities. It isn’t sneaking around and wishing. It isn’t flawed. This love doesn’t make mistakes. This kind of love is so much more than we can even think about. This love is messy-covered and washed in blood. This is God love. This is amazing.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Thank You
Our God is magnificent. This may seem like a tiny statement. It could be a statement uttered in ignorance of any other god. In this case it isn't an empty, tiny statement. The statement rings from mountain to mountain. The stones themselves sing of His greatness. Flowers bloom in praise of our God. Waterfalls dance from deep within the forest to echo the angels' song. Brothers and sisters in Christ lift their hands in every corner of the world reaching for our God.
Some of our future brothers and sisters do not know our Lord. Many are still striving to serve angry gods. They are watching every move wondering which will stir their god's wrath. Then when evil follows on evil, when every pain of life is returned without love, they cry out to another form of god. The Hindu people serve many gods and goddesses. The art of their deities is amazing and terrifying. They say that each of the gods and goddesses are aspects of the one unnamed god force. The descriptions of the deities do not mention love. Battle is a frequent theme but not love.
The Greeks had a multitude of gods and goddesses. They loved the humans but not in a pure way. There are so few gods whose central theme is love and so many people who are searching for that love.
The art work of our God is the sky with its stars and moon and sun. The aspects of our God are not masked as little gods with little purposes. While we cannot understand every part of our God, it is ok. We can see His love for us in the wildflowers that line the roads. We can taste His joy in cakes and bread and spices. We can drink in the hope only He offers in the clean water and warm coffee. Our God is the beginning and the end, the giver of all good and perfect things, He loves us. He who carved the most beautiful canyons loves us. He who designed the intricate chemicals that form life loves us. No matter what happens in this life we rest in the joy and peace and hope that our God is with us and when we are done here, He will take us home. Thank you Lord and Father that You sent Your son to die for our sins. Thank you that Jesus defeated death through His resurrection and that through Him we can know You. We give you praise that we do not live in uncertainty. Because You are You we live in the knowledge that we are loved. Thank you. Now let us go and do Your will.
Some of our future brothers and sisters do not know our Lord. Many are still striving to serve angry gods. They are watching every move wondering which will stir their god's wrath. Then when evil follows on evil, when every pain of life is returned without love, they cry out to another form of god. The Hindu people serve many gods and goddesses. The art of their deities is amazing and terrifying. They say that each of the gods and goddesses are aspects of the one unnamed god force. The descriptions of the deities do not mention love. Battle is a frequent theme but not love.
The Greeks had a multitude of gods and goddesses. They loved the humans but not in a pure way. There are so few gods whose central theme is love and so many people who are searching for that love.
The art work of our God is the sky with its stars and moon and sun. The aspects of our God are not masked as little gods with little purposes. While we cannot understand every part of our God, it is ok. We can see His love for us in the wildflowers that line the roads. We can taste His joy in cakes and bread and spices. We can drink in the hope only He offers in the clean water and warm coffee. Our God is the beginning and the end, the giver of all good and perfect things, He loves us. He who carved the most beautiful canyons loves us. He who designed the intricate chemicals that form life loves us. No matter what happens in this life we rest in the joy and peace and hope that our God is with us and when we are done here, He will take us home. Thank you Lord and Father that You sent Your son to die for our sins. Thank you that Jesus defeated death through His resurrection and that through Him we can know You. We give you praise that we do not live in uncertainty. Because You are You we live in the knowledge that we are loved. Thank you. Now let us go and do Your will.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Beauty
There is a color that dances in the sky on certain mornings. It is an almost orange, soft peach with pure white sparkles. I would catch that color if I could. I would catch that color and paint every surface I could reach. It is an amazing color. It is rich and soft, an explosion of downy feathers. It is beautiful.
The serpent is beautiful. Its movements mirror water flowing. The scales shimmer with indescribable intricacies like diamonds and opals. It is silent. It appears and disappears in waves through grass or under twisted metal. Chains in my jewelry box lay carelessly dropped over one another like the snakes curled together in their dens. There is an unknown power that lies in the snake's belly. A frightening strength that rises up at will and strikes the unaware.
Beauty is strange concept. People can be beautiful inside or out or sometimes both. The same object can be seen as beautiful and horrible. The same words can dance with joy and sink in despair. Beauty comes in the morning. It rises in the clouds with that certain color painted miraculously across the sky. Beauty arises and shouts for our attention. It shouts out "Rejoice! The Lord our God is the Great I AM"
The serpent is beautiful. Its movements mirror water flowing. The scales shimmer with indescribable intricacies like diamonds and opals. It is silent. It appears and disappears in waves through grass or under twisted metal. Chains in my jewelry box lay carelessly dropped over one another like the snakes curled together in their dens. There is an unknown power that lies in the snake's belly. A frightening strength that rises up at will and strikes the unaware.
Beauty is strange concept. People can be beautiful inside or out or sometimes both. The same object can be seen as beautiful and horrible. The same words can dance with joy and sink in despair. Beauty comes in the morning. It rises in the clouds with that certain color painted miraculously across the sky. Beauty arises and shouts for our attention. It shouts out "Rejoice! The Lord our God is the Great I AM"
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