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  • Reflections by The Pond #472: Trapped Between The Soil and The Stars

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    David S. Lampel
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    My fault and my fate is to be an incurable romantic. Where others see a squirrel burying acorns for the winter, I see nature's epochal struggle for survival. Where others see only the frigid inconvenience of accumulated snow and ice, I see the sublime subtleties of God's crystalline palette. Where others see the loss of chlorophyll in the leaves of summer and their inevitable littering of the ground, I see signs of a fading year sprinkled liberally with the exuberant shades of God's handiwork. So when I gaze upward toward the west, on a chilly autumn eve, and my breath is taken away by the resplendent beauty of a sunset, I see not just a pretty end to another day, but God's glory splashed across His immense, heavenly canvas.

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    My fault and my fate is to be an incurable romantic. Where others see a squirrel burying acorns for the winter, I see nature's epochal struggle for survival. Where others see only the frigid inconvenience of accumulated snow and ice, I see the sublime subtleties of God's crystalline palette. Where others see the loss of chlorophyll in the leaves of summer and their inevitable littering of the ground, I see signs of a fading year sprinkled liberally with the exuberant shades of God's handiwork. So when I gaze upward toward the west, on a chilly autumn eve, and my breath is taken away by the resplendent beauty of a sunset, I see not just a pretty end to another day, but God's glory splashed across His immense, heavenly canvas.

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    15 vizualizări2 pagini

    Reflections by The Pond #472: Trapped Between The Soil and The Stars

    Încărcat de

    David S. Lampel
    My fault and my fate is to be an incurable romantic. Where others see a squirrel burying acorns for the winter, I see nature's epochal struggle for survival. Where others see only the frigid inconvenience of accumulated snow and ice, I see the sublime subtleties of God's crystalline palette. Where others see the loss of chlorophyll in the leaves of summer and their inevitable littering of the ground, I see signs of a fading year sprinkled liberally with the exuberant shades of God's handiwork. So when I gaze upward toward the west, on a chilly autumn eve, and my breath is taken away by the resplendent beauty of a sunset, I see not just a pretty end to another day, but God's glory splashed across His immense, heavenly canvas.

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    © All Rights Reserved
    Descărcați ca PDF sau citiți online pe Scribd
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    din 2

    Trapped Between the Soil and the Stars

    M
    y fault and my fate is to be an incurable romantic .

    Where others see a squirrel burying acorns for the winter, I see
    nature’s epochal struggle for survival. Where others see only the frigid
    inconvenience of accumulated snow and ice, I see the sublime subtleties
    of God’s crystalline palette. Where others see the loss of chlorophyll in the
    leaves of summer and their inevitable littering of the ground, I see signs of a
    fading year sprinkled liberally with the exuberant shades of God’s handiwork.

    Reflections
    by the Pond
    November 8, 2010
    No. 472 
    So when I gaze upward toward the west, on a chilly autumn eve, “But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the
    and my breath is taken away by the resplendent beauty of a sunset, highest heaven cannot contain You, how much less this house
    I see not just a pretty end to another day, but God’s glory splashed which I have built!”
    across His immense, heavenly canvas. 1 Kings 8:27

    For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His Alas, that which displays the handiwork and personality of the
    eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being Father must remain, until The Day, only a beckoning foretaste of what
    understood through what has been made, so that they are lies ahead. Just as God in my mind can only be a weak and fleeting
    without excuse. surrogate for the more substantial glory of His literal presence, the
    Romans 1:20
    glory of His earthly creation cannot compare to the wondrous mys-
    teries and beauty of my eventual home.
    And there’s the rub. An energetic and creative God has gone out of So, as a consolation, I make the visual riches of His grace into a
    His way to reveal Himself in the components of His handiwork. He has promissory note. He has promised me life everlasting in the now-
    surrounded all my senses with the beauty of His mind and hand. Yet unimaginable wonder of His presence. For the moment, because I
    often, instead of exhilaration the result is only an unrequited long- am still small and earth-bound, I take comfort in a diluted foretaste
    ing in my breast, and a sensation of being in the wrong place at the of that wonder. All around me glows the beauty of His creation: the
    wrong time—a feeling of belonging not to the low or to the high, but woods, the luxurious plains, the beasts of the field. The changes in
    to neither. each new season offer a hint of the changes that will take place once
    I cannot yet reach up into heaven. I cannot yet soar with the angels I pass through His gates.
    or kneel and worship alongside the Elders. I do not yet tread the soft The beauty of this world is a sight at once uplifting and melan-
    pathways of gold that crisscross my God’s home. But neither can I be choly—a pleasant experience tinged with homesickness.
    at peace in a place of soil and clay and mortal impermanence. But it will do for now.
    At times this flesh is little more than a cumbersome cloak—cloy-
    ingly uncomfortable apparel for my God-tinged spirit.

    We invite your comments on this or earlier Reflections issues. the


    Click here to share your thoughts on this issue at our web site. writings © 2010 David S. Lampel. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the New
    American Standard Bible (Updated Edition). Reflections by the Pond is published
    of weekly. This is the on-screen pdf edition; Reflections is also available in html ,
    printable pdf, and plain text editions.
    For a free subscription, go to http://dlampel.com

    
    2 Co r. 4 : 5 - 7

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