When God Reminds you He’s God
January 25, 2010
by Brian McArthur
A smile in another man’s face as he patiently offers to let you pass.
The moonrise over the ocean, so big and so golden it seems like the sun; its rays illuminating the thin bands of clouds blanketing the waves.
The luminescence and spectacular beauty of a lighting storm as seen from above; pure darkness, utter blackness suddenly interrupted by a flash that throws silver lining along the mass of clouds, backlit with white fire and halfway translucent; the flicker as it dies away, like a spluttering candle.
The sea-green and aquamarine pools of the Caribbean seen from 39,000 feet; with white shores rimming barren strips of desert, and wider patches of green.
The fog and mist on hills covered in rainforest, rising and falling, creating lightshows and lending a haunting loneliness to the mountains as they spill toward the sea.
The fragrance of newly wet earth, blown in from a thunderhead miles distant, the dark streak of rain slanting toward the thirsty ground.
The amazing intricacy of certain tiny blossoms, scarcely large enough to catch your eye as you pass quickly by.
The sudden crispness in the air as summer gives way to autumn, accompanied by the occasional crunch of the largest leaves underfoot.
The unanticipated and non-negotiable generosity of a friend who pays for your meal before you even have time to protest.
Just standing in the rain and letting God wash the filth and the complications from your life, feeling his grace fall to the roots of your hair and run off your nose, drenching and renewing you completely.
Watching a falling snow gently cover the world with silence and peace; being still and knowing that He is God.
Stopping to watch a butterfly and wondering if it truly has a destination, or if it is there simply to be seen and admired.
Looking out from a mountain and thanking God you are alive.
Just listening to a friend talk about their passions, and thanking God for creating more than just you.
A squirrel springing through the grass, either in directionless bliss or abject terror at your passing.
Gazing in wonder at a sky blazing with stars, tracking the disk of our galaxy across it; a sky that helps you to realize your size in proportion to the universe, and the disproportionate love of the creator for you.
Hugging a pine tree and breathing in the butterscotch-vanilla scent.
Being deafened by the roar of a torrential downpour on a metal roof.
Swinging lazily in a hammock on a hot afternoon, gazing at ants below and being glad you’re not quite as busy.
Listening to pigeons coo in the evening and train whistles in the distance at night.
Being blinded by a flash of lighting and left deafened with the crash of thunder as God reminds you that you are mortal.
Trading a knowing glance with a fox, as both stop to contemplate one another.
Witnessing another’s baptism and sharing in their joy, as yet another screwed up individual becomes a blameless brother or sister.
Pouring out your soul in worship, sometimes oblivious, sometimes aware of and warmed by the scores of voices raised up around you, praising your common Father.
The sudden realization that somewhere, someone is praying for you.
Prayer with a friend.
God’s embrace.
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Amen.