Finding The Secret

More Than Conquerors
September 2003

“Since the creation of the world God’s invisible attributes—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” —Romans 1:20

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.” —Psalm 19:1-4

The world that God has created is beautiful. A large variety of colors and designs exist in flowers, birds, animals, and even the sky. And if we open our eyes to the wonders of nature, we realize that there are few things as beautiful as the sunset, few things as exhilarating as a fresh breeze in your face, and few things as awe-inspiring as an eagle soaring through the sky.

Why is this? Why all the color, the beauty, the remarkable design, when so little is needed for basic survival?

The answer is that God created the universe not only for our delight, but to draw us closer to Him, to show us His invisible attributes. He created nature and the galaxies out of His love for us. The creation is a great work of art, designed by God so that we may learn to love beauty and creativity, and so that we may grow closer to Him. It is a clear picture to the whole world that God is alive, and that He is concerned about us.

So next time you see a flower, don’t just pass it by. Stop and enjoy its beauty, and realize that it is a token of God’s love for us. Next time you hear a bird singing its heart out, join it in its worship of the Creator. And next time you see an eagle soaring through the sky, let your soul be lifted with the wings of the eagle, to be inspired heavenward.

“The ideas of Christianity are so grand, so high, and the things all around us in life so ordinary. They seen to contradict each other from morning to night—in our minds, I mean…What does nature have in common with the Bible and its notions of Spirituality? Yet when we think such thoughts, there we are wrong. For nature has a thousand things! The very wind on my face seems to rouse me to fresh effort after a pure, healthy life! Then there is the sunrise! The snowdrop in the snow! There is the butterfly! And the rain of summer and the clearing of the sky after the storm! There is the hen gathering her chicks under her wing! I doubt whether anything is in fact ordinary except in our own mistrusting nature.” —George MacDonald

“Time and space come together as we look at the stars, as we worship silently together in this most massive cathedral of the summer sky. Something in us aches and hungers and is not filled even in the presence of this awesome beauty. This is more than a hunger for beauty. It is at the same time a hunger for love, for acceptance—which, if you think about it long enough, you’ll realize is a hunger for God.” —Michael Card, Scribbling In The Sand

The Heart Of It All

Flowers splash with color,
Perfect treasures of art.
More than a feast for the eyes,
Their beauty reaches the heart.

The sunset is a painting
Far beyond all works of men.
And it also speaks of hope
To all who stop and listen.

All of nature is a gift
Waiting to be unraveled,
Filled with hidden roads for souls
That are ready to be traveled.

And behind this beauty there is
Someone at the heart of it all—
Behold! There stands the Creator,
Waiting for us to hear His call!

—Benjamin Graber

The Love Song

Here upon my bedroom roof
I sit, my shadow dim—
If I listen slow—and careful—
I can hear an axis spin—

Alone as can be possible,
I sit—I think—with me—
But all around I feel a song,
A sort of symphony—

The sky above is turning—
A tree laughs with the wind—
Leaves go prancing up and down
The gently swaying limbs—

Grass below me glitters—
With a dewy throat it sings—
And suddenly, for me, the world,
Is full of dancing things—

The birds, once quiet, twitter—
One here, another there—
The crickets chirp the lovely tune—
There’s singing everywhere!

A song I cannot quite make out—
A love song, though, I know—
I cannot translate all the words—
Or how the music goes—

I jump up, to cheer with silent eyes!
There’s a warm awe deep within—
The stars above me clap their hands—
We’re all in love with Him!

—Joanna Spencer
© Joanna Spencer. Used with permission

Thanks for God's World

Good morning, God,
Thanks for Your world,
And if I could
My awe unfurl:

If I could show
Your awesome power
I’d stand below
A mountain tower

If I portrayed
Your glory bright
Then I would stay
Watch sunset’s light

To understand
Your tranquility,
I’d calmly stand
Let the storms drench me.

If I would see
Your vastness great.
Far above me
Is heaven’s gate.

And last if I
Saw creativity,
You’d show my eyes
People ’round me.

—Samuel Popiel

Show Us The Father

“Show us the Father.” Chiming stars of space,
And lives that fit the worlds, and means and powers,
A Thought that holds them up reveal to ours—
A Wisdom we have been made wise to trace.
And, looking out from sweetest Nature’s face,
From sunsets, moonlights, rivers, hills, and flowers,
Infinite love and beauty, all the hours,
Woo men that love them with divinest grace;
And to the depths of all the answering soul
High Justice speaks, and calls the world her own;
And yet we long, and yet we have not known
The very Father’s face who means the whole!
Show us the Father! Nature, conscience, love
Revealed in beauty, is there One above?

—George MacDonald

Spring Crocus

The jade spear slices the dirt,
A tiny sprout to show—
The bud uncurls, lavender,
Like all the flowers—slow—

The crocus stretches in the sun—
It clears its throat of dew—
I bend my knee to hear the song
It proudly sings of You—

Oh, miracle, again, again!
Every year in awe I stand,
As the simple flower at my feet
Sings louder than I can—

—Joanna Spencer
© Joanna Spencer. Used with permission

Consider The Lilies Of The Field

Flowers preach to us if we will hear:—
The rose saith in the dewy morn:
I am most fair;
Yet all my loveliness is born
Upon a thorn.
The poppy saith amid the corn:
Let but my scarlet head appear
And I am held in scorn;
Yet juice of subtle virtue lies
Within my cup of curious dyes.
The lilies say: behold how we
Preach without words of purity.
The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance in the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read.

But not alone the fairest flowers:
The merest grass
Along the roadside where we pass,
Lichen and moss and sturdy weed,
Tell of His love who sends the dew,
The rain and sunshine too,
To nourish one small seed.

—Christina Rossetti

I Look And See

The lovely blue sky
Dreams of hope and joy
Oh, to dance with the clouds,
Again a little boy!

What else is there to say?
Nothing but blue—and blue
And yet to me it says:
“God truly cares for you”

I look and see
That He cares for me!
The God who made the sky!

Bright, warm, joyful sunshine
I can’t tell you why—
But it gives me a smile
As it dances in the sky

Always, when my day is dark
And I go rest outside
God sends me His joy
When in Him I abide

I look and see
That He cares for me!
The God who made sunshine

When white flakes flutter down
Each a white butterfly
Peace comes into my soul
And lifts my spirit high

Quiet, perfect snowflakes
Touch my heart and face
They let me know God’s here
And with me any place

I look and see
That He cares for me!
The God who made snowflakes

Colorful, bright flowers
Messengers of the spring
They shout that God loves us
As they silently sing

When I see their beauty
I have come to know
Each one is a promise
As their joyful smiles show

I look and see
That He cares for me!
The God who made flowers

Wonderful, singing birds
God cares for every one
So they sing back to Him
Under the springtime sun

I just can’t explain it—
How much I love these birds
Maybe they give me joy
’Cause they sing God’s loving words!

I look and see
That He cares for me!
The God who made the birds

Oh, come out and see
The beauty of the day
God’s showing He loves us
In a colorful way

The flowers speak a promise—
The birds sing a song
Each one declaring loudly
God’s loved us all along

—Benjamin Graber

Majestic Beauty

I stand in silent awe of You
As I view the heavens, above;
Of skies purple, yellow, blue.
My heart overflows with love.

No words could ere describe the peace
That soothes the restless soul,
While gazing on Your handiwork.
Such beauty You’ve bestowed.

You’ve softly cast a radiant glow
On Your canvas, in the skies;
A ray of hope for all to see.
In You my faith relies.

Majestic beauty, royalty
Which belongs to only You.
Almighty God, King of Kings,
I humbly bow my knee.

© 2001 by Marie Williams

Connect The Dots

Looking at the stars in the sky
Connect the dots; it’s easy to see
The beauty in all creation
Proclaims the truth that Jesus loves me.

And I see from nature’s wonders
And how strange His creatures can be,
He longs for a response from me
Out of my creativity.

So, Lord, I breathe your air today
And will not take it for granted,
But worship You with all I am,
By your awesome love enchanted,

And every day I see your world,
I’ll connect the dots once again,
Enjoying your great creation,
Remembering your love of men.

—Benjamin Graber

You Give Everything, Can’t Get Anything

Lord of earth, Creator God,
Show me how to love Your world.
Master, strong and merciful,
May this servant serve in full.

Blessed Redeemer, strong and true,
Might I give my all like You?
Mediator and my Friend,
May our sacred bond ne’er end.

Star of Jacob, Judah’s Lion,
Lead the way to bless’d Mt. Zion
Mighty conqueror, command,
Spread your troops throughout the land.

Great I AM and Trinity,
Crush my heart and humble me.
Everlasting Holy Father,
Resurrect Your sons and daughters.

Maintainer Meticulous,
Emmanuel, please care for us.
Priestly King of noble Blood,
Cleanse the world with crimson flood.

Feet-Washer, Healer of blind,
Soften hearts and open minds.
Triune God, the Lord of hosts,
Lead us Abba, Son, Holy Ghost.

—Samuel Popiel

A Bit of Heaven

A little bit of Heaven
Appeared on earth, today.
I saw it through the window
And it took my breath away.

I thanked God for this gift,
A token of His love.
For the beauty, here, on earth
And the blue skies, up above.

I thanked Him for the seasons
That unfold before us all;
The pattern so perfected,
Winter through to Fall.

Today, He sent a special sign
That Spring is on the way.
A snowdrop raised it’s tiny head,
To create the perfect day.

© by Marian Jones
http://www.geocities.com/marians_words_of_life/homepage.html

The Hills

Behind my father’s cottage lies
A gentle grassy height
Up which I often ran—to gaze
Back with a wondering sight,
For then the chimneys I thought high
Were down below me quite!

All round, where’er I turned mine eyes,
Huge hills closed up the view;
The town ’mid their converging roots
Was clasped by rivers two;
From one range to another sprang
The sky’s great vault of blue.

It was a joy to climb their sides,
And in the heather lie!
A joy to look at vantage down
On the castle grim and high!
Blue streams below, white clouds above,
In silent earth and sky!

And now, where’er my feet may roam
At sight of stranger hill
A new sense of the old delight
Springs in my bosom still,
And longings for the high unknown
Their ancient channels fill.

For I am always climbing hills,
From the known to the unknown—
Surely, at last, on some high peak,
To find my Father’s throne,
Though hitherto I have only found
His footsteps in the stone!

And in my wanderings I did meet
Another searching too:
The dawning hope, the shared quest
Our thoughts together drew;
Fearless she laid her hand in mine
Because her heart was true.

She was not born among the hills
Yet on each mountain face
A something known her inward eye
By inborn light can trace;
For up the hills must homeward be,
Though no one knows the place.

Clasp my hand close, my child, in thine—
A long way we have come!
Clasp my hand closer yet, my child,
Farther we yet must roam—
Climbing and climbing till we reach
Our Heavenly Father’s home.

—George MacDonald

A Dull Stone

A rock—a dull stone—kicks my foot—
I mutter and kick it back—
Such worthless things—my toe complains—
It’s turning blue and black—

Then I stop and ponder this boring thing,
And for a moment, try to see
How this little rock with its lusterless face
In my driveway came to be—

It could have lain in a river,
Or been a child’s toy—
It could have been a weapon,
In the sling of a little boy—

It could have lined a volcano
That erupted during the Flood—
It could have slept on a hill
And soaked up a Savior’s blood—

Now suddenly, this cold, dull stone
Is not so dull to me—
I pick it up and put it back
In the driveway carefully—

The Voice Of God

Sometimes the voice of God
Sounds like a trumpet blast,
Or the boom of rolling thunder;
When the moment is past
Your heart’s filled with fear and wonder.

Sometimes the voice of God
Is like an angel at the door
Sent with a clear command,
A word so plain you can’t ignore—
A time to fall or stand.

But most often, the voice of God
Is like a friend that slips inside
Without attracting any notice,
You can search far and wide
And still this quiet voice miss—

So often it is through nature
Or through the kindness of a friend
The voice of God is imparted
And before we can comprehend
It slips into the heart.

—Benjamin Graber

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or
nakedness or danger or sword?… No, in all these things
we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”
—Romans 8:35, 37

If you have any comments or questions, or if you have a poem to share, please send an e-mail to bgraber@neo.rr.com

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