The sunrise is spectacular this morning. The air is clear and cool and the color of the warmth promised to soon come is playing on the rooftops of the buildings near where I live. After I took the dog out for her morning “constitutional,” I trimmed the roses at the entrance to our walkway. The bushes are in full bloom and I can smell the fragrance of red every time I go to, and come from. The dew fell heavy on the grass last night and the clover seems particularly happy. A mourning dove coos restlessly from the corner of the deck seemingly ignorant of the loud reply of expectant chirps and whistles coming from the trees all around. It would seem that everything was just right in the world…
I watched a PBS show on Lyme disease last night. It was frightening. One of the contributors spoke about Nature and what it provides and how it challenges us. I thought aloud, “What nonsense!”. If Nature exists as an end to itself, what a cruel, wicked entity it is indeed. All we “discover” serves only to inform us of our own terminal condition and real powerlessness. There is no god created by any religion more vile and cruel than Mother Nature if she is indeed the source for what we experience.
My eyes are surrounded by worthless things. How do I know how to distinguish from the valuable and the vacuous? Is a piece of premium paper marked with the numeric symbol “100″ valuable? Is an oak ringed by one hundred years of effort to grow and withstand the elements of its survival valuable? Is an infant human, unable to breathe without mechanical assistance and bearing only the assurance of demands of many resources in the years to come, valuable?
Without God’s word on these matters, how could I know? What life could I have if I were bereft of his unchanging and unalterable word guiding me to understand that life is worthwhile not because it exists, but because it is an expression of His sustaining grace. How could I steward nature rather than ravish it for my own selfish pleasure? How could I know that beauty is real without understanding that it is a reflection of His glory, howbeit dim and tarnished?
Lord, keep turning my eyes.