The Wonder of Creation

Who has not been wonderstruck by creation?

First this: God created the Heavens and Earth—all you see, all you don’t see.                                                          Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness.                                                                                                       God’s Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss.

God spoke: “Light!”
        And light appeared.
    God saw that light was good
        and separated light from dark.
    God named the light Day,
        he named the dark Night.
    It was evening, it was morning—
    Day One. Genesis 1:1-5 the Message

And so it went day one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. “And God saw that it was good.”

O Lord my God! When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works thy hand hath made,
I see the stars, I hear the mighty thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed;

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

 

Hope

“To them God willed to make known what are the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles:                                   which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” Colossians 1:27 NKJ

The shores of South Florida are well acquainted with Haiti. It isn’t an uncommon site in early spring for boats (some barely sea worthy) to land on our beaches. Boats filled with Haitian people, people full of hope. Their hopes in finding a better life in America.

Our county is a diverse one with the influx of Caribbean people strongly felt. Billboards advertising phone cards with pricing for calls to Haiti. Supermarkets catering to their tastes. Accents you learn to discern from Trinidad, Barbados, Jamaica and Haiti. But it is the Haitian people who seem to risk most to reach this land of hope.

One of our supervisors is Haitian born. Her bright smile always, always, lights the day. But it was in the days immediately following the earthquake that devastated her homeland that I came to know more of her heart and her hope.

Her smile had dimmed. When I stopped to ask about her family she told me a brother still hadn’t been heard from. She wanted to pray so we did. There in the middle of the sorting department. A nondescript area filled with clothing others had cast off. Women sorting through the bags, pricing, men stapling tags and hanging, all moving about as she held my hands and we prayed. She had hope. Bright hope. Espwa. Creole for hope.

I am blessed to work in an environment filled with people searching for hope and even more offering hope.

Hope is not reserved for select groups. Sheila believes more in the hope of America than many born here do. Her first hope comes from her deep faith in God. He is her hope. He reveals His hope through her. Through the men looking for recovery from their addictions and finding hope along the way. God’s hope is revealed in them. In those who believe in His hope. Espwa.

 

 

Time

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I’d like to do
Is to save every day
Till Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce

It was a cheesy song from my high school days and over played on the radio but we all sang along when it came on. Saving time, wasting time, find time, outta time, “got, got, got, got, got no time….” From songs to comedy routines time is a common theme, seemingly from the beginning of time.

“Prayerfully consider what changes—including cuts and additions—you need to make to your schedule to awaken to the wonder of rest and a healthy rhythm in your daily life.”

21 Days of Wonder….the title sounded so alluring…Wonder. I need and want that as part of my life. But these challenges….to name beauty, to reflect, and now to alter MY time, MY schedule and MY routine…have made me search deeper than I would have thought. To write words that were so hard. And now, now I must confess my misuse of time. My squandering of it for my whims.

Father God, if I am to know wonder, I must know you and I must spend time, take time, make time in allowing you to show me Your wonders. Forgive my selfishness and squandering. Guide me in your healthy rhythms of life. Allow me grace to share in Your time as all is Yours.

“My times are in your hands.” Psalm 31:15

 

Reflection

It takes a lot to impress me. I am not amazed by the usual. I have no burning desire to see Les Miserables or Cirque de Soleil. Sometimes I feel like a grown up kill-joy never really knowing why until reading Andy Stanley’s book Deep and Wide where he says it’s an attribute of all preacher’s kids. That explains a lot.

The sky reflected in a building in Las Vegas

Another word for another day of experiencing wonder: reflection. Many ways to take this….reflecting on His many wonders, the wonder of physical reflection in nature but here Margaret Feinberg talks about reflecting “on those things that prevent you from awakening to the wonders of God.”

I think I’m open to seeing these wonders but I expect him to do all the work. As if I sit back just waiting for God to perform the next wonder. “I need a wonder today God.” Is there a bigger part I need to play? What about those days that are ho-hum? The days called Monday – Friday, 9 – 5, or the days called “my life”. I lost too many to those times and I don’t want to lose more. There is too much wonder surrounding me to miss it. I want to see it. To have it overtake me. For that to happen I have to give myself over to the wonder.

Prosser, WA

Today, Eric stood in my office listening to the background track of How He Loves Us, a song he’ll be singing Sunday. During the bridge the music stops for only the vocals to be sung. There, at my desk, leaning over the MacBook Pro this recovering addict sang softly and clearly and beautifully and chill bumps spread across my arms. Wonderstruck! I can’t wait to hear him sing Sunday and for God’s own Spirit to move through our hearts.

Before I took off my sunglasses or got to my office Carson was calling out about the chaplains fish that died. James chimed in as the “fish” story grew and laughter crept across their faces. Walking on to my office I hear the story of Jonah being read to our intake counselor (the alleged fish killer) by one of our graduates. All of these staff members in recovery. All of them with responsibilities that often call for hard decisions. All of them laughing with each other. Wonderstruck! Yes, those seemingly ordinary acts become wonder to me because they are only because of God’s restorative power.

Thank you, Father, for the wonders, YOUR wonders. Remove any obstacle that may prevent me from experiencing these joys. Thank you for allowing me to reflect your greatness as the best wonders come from you.