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 |    We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
The universe expands and grows as God is making all. This curtain opened, now it flows as hearts receive His Call. So many stars, and objects rare, and never have we seen these places close, to stop and stare, such thoughts on which to lean. We know the Earth, and planets eight, the sun 'round which we race. The truth not known is really great to bolster Pride's disgrace. The Earth is big and we are small. It's height and depth just scratched. The humans here will ne'er know all before life's last dispatch. Of sister planets know we some, a tiny thumbnail sketch, and e'er we there by rockets come our tombstones they will etch. The sun will not we view and map, unless we go at night. Such humor lays the buffoon a trap before he sees his plight. The universe is vast, unknown as the world, that we may trod. So little know we on our own without the help of God. What know we of His Majesty! What know we of His Grace! When will our hearts and minds be free His fingers yet to trace. The vastness of each human made requires unequaled skill. His every word the stars obeyed, the night with colors fill. My deepest guess regards the things, that fill this outer space. Are these just waste of which He sings, or needful in His Grace? Is there an object with no use for the making of a man? Or is my mind a bit obtuse to try to know His Plan? That Man is so complex to make must really be quite clear. Are properties, that He would take those only of Man, near? Or could it be in bliss to see, that God can use it all? Each object made of use by He to breathe Man 'fore the Fall. The strings of life in minute deft are played by skillful Hands. The marionette remains bereft of life without His Plans. The One, who holds the worlds aloft, and changes day to night can draw all things in movements soft, give life to Man just right. What is this thought, that Man may live because some distant "thing" is needed there all life to give on Earth to cause us sing? Or is effusive beauty made to lavish on His Bride, that when He by the cross obeyed, we'd live for once he died? by Jay O'Toole on May 26th, 2020   |
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