The heavens declare the glory of God; And the firmament shows His handiwork. Day unto day utters speech, and night unto night reveals knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard. Their line has gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. Psalm 19:1-4**
The veil threatens to shroud my perspective when the clouds hang low and this particular day starts, early. The noise all around me seeks to become a voice — its own voice — alluring me back inward and downward.
But Your glory is as accessible as the chipmunk that’s found its way onto my front doorstep and whose nibbling has my children mesmerized, those ones who woke up too early. It’s in the volunteer Morning Glory that found its way into my garden and opened like a sign of promise this particular morning, after hours of its own shut-eye. It’s caught up in the crisp air of fall that tells me seasons do change and it’s resting on the grass, wet with dew, that says there is a wondrous circadian rhythm You’ve patterned into all of life.
Your glory is so much bigger than me, yet You make it within my reach. You not only became flesh so that I might understand You but You let Your creation wear Your fingerprints. You made Yourself accessible to my thick mind.
Father of the firmament, I adore You for how You sprinkle Yourself all across my life. My senses, they tell Your story, when I see and smell the beauty You’ve implanted in my world.
Day after day after day trumpets a vision so much bigger than me. The earth is Your orchestra and every songbird has a role to play in Your glory. Even the storm-clouds point to You.
I adore You, Father who is this Vision. I praise You for writing Yourself across all of life so that I couldn’t possibly miss seeing You.
When my voice is cracked and my language runs dry, out of a heart that is dry, Your creation waxes on. When I see muddy and all I can focus on is me, You break in with Your beauty all around me. You’ve made the earth for You … and You’ve made the earth for me. All so that I might declare You.
I am weak and my words fail but You continue to offer me opportunities to see You. Father, You’ve painted Yourself across the sky in the sunrise and it’s setting, all so that I might — twice, daily — be reminded of the bigger story underfoot.
I adore You for making Yourself visible. I praise You for the ladybug that sings Your song with its very life and gives me a chance to climb outside of all that I’m not and be reminded of You, God, who whispers: there is opportunity for beauty in today!
And when I utter this word — even just a simple phrase of adoration — I join in the chorus’ crescendo that says every day is pregnant with glory. Yes, even the worst of days. Even my most drab moments, the times I get tugged down by the weight of the world around me, are interrupted by the knowledge of You in Your creation.
I praise You for making Yourself known.
I adore You, Father-approachable.
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**So what do I do with these posts, you ask, other than just read them? First, if you haven’t yet, read: Why I Adore and Morning Chai, Explained to give you a context for this little space on my blog.
If you are compelled, I invite you to participate. Set up a space and time in your own life to begin adoring. Over laundry or dinner dishes, on your commute to work, or in the wee morning hours — five or ten minutes is a great start. You can use the verse I list here every day or two as a launch pad for your own adoration. (Showing Up gives you some practicals.)
Then practice praise.
I promise your weary soul won’t regret it.
You can see all of the Morning Chai posts with this link: http://www.EveryBitterThingisSweet.com/posts/chai/ and you can easily subscribe to these devotional meditations as they are delivered, by using this feed: http://www.EveryBitterThingisSweet.com/posts/chai/feed or by entering your email address in the second box on the right-hand side.
Photos compliments of Mandie Joy.
