The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard. Ps. 19:1-3
Heavenly Father, right now I’m looking out over a magnificent lake of azure-blue wonder, in the little village of Iseltwald, just outside Interlaken, Switzerland. The air is crisp, the sky is blue, and my heart is hungry.
Over these next seven days, please tune my ears and heart to hear what you want to say through the things you have made. Make Psalm 19:1-3 palpably real to me. I’ve tired of all the noise. I’m weary of the constant prattle, blather, and yammering of the culture.
I love the singular uniqueness of how you speak through your Word. But your voice in creation is also heart-palpitating and knee-buckling. How can anyone with a pulse, and any degree of sensual awareness, ponder your creation and not worship you, the Creator of all things?
You created the sonic delight of waves crashing on the shoreline and the infectious giggles our grandchildren make. You formed the Swiss Alps—irresistible in their power to draw forth awe from my soul. You hand paint every Brook, Brown, and Rainbow Trout in the streams of the world; and you decorate our fowl friends with your feather artistry.
You’re responsible for the permanent smile on the face of dolphin, the texture of cheese cake, and the aroma of great coffee. You gave the gift of melody to The Beatles and the gift of symphony to Beethoven. You are the envy of every artist who studies sunrises and sunsets—some of your best and most daily work.
Topping everything you’ve done to reveal yourself, you gave us Jesus. Indeed, not content just to be an incomparable Creator, you choose to be a merciful Redeemer. Thank you, Father. May we hear you speaking louder than ever to us, in the things you have made, the Word you have written, and One you have given. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus mighty and merciful name.