The Melody Of Creation
Waking up upon the dawn of the morning, the world is just a slight whisper. In the silence, sounds that are otherwise unnoticed in the hectic bustle of the day seem to take on a language of their own. The rhythm of each passing car is reminicent of waves in the ocean and the singing melodies of the birds bring in the day as the sky brings in the light.
The few clouds in the visual substance the sun brings seem to stretch as they are formed to give us the first painting of the day. Echos of color seem to overlap each other while the sun hums a heartbeat that triggers the rays, and each cloud responds in harmonic unison in a breathtaking and vibrant display of gradients of pink and orange hues. The sky captures it all as if to stretch her arms in a motherly show of pride if just for a few minutes, giving many a chance to photograph the splendor of her grace…a silent melody from heaven while spectators watch in awe.
Who does the live painting of this spectacular showing? I had a dream once after my mother in law passed away, that I was in a white room with a man whose face I could not see. Dressed in a brilliant white robe, he held in his hand a palette, each color standing on it’s own and in his other hand was a brush. He quietly led me over to an easel that held a canvas, and as he touched the brush to the canvas, beautiful ribbons of sparkling blue danced across it. He continued to apply the brush to the canvas…just a whispering touch, and what slowly emerged was a beautiful image of my mother in law. I stood looking at this masterpiece almost afraid to breathe for fear that the sound could shatter that image, and then the dream faded as I gradually woke up.
Could the same person that was in that dream also be the One who paints the sky? Could He be the same who instructs the moon into position, the One who placed the stars and gave them life to twinkle over the vast length of darkened sky? The Spirit leads and brings life to all things created that was called to obediently move at His command…He breathed breath into the first man, and man became a living being…his eyes and ears open to see and hear for the first time…his Maker.
Oh, what a magnificent joy it must have been as He waited with bated breath for that moment! How the tears must have flowed from His eyes as the catch in His voice echoed the love as He spoke to His creation for the first time!
An exraordinary melody…
All creation has their very own unique sound, and unique symphanies of color that only the Creator can see and hear, from the birds that monitor the sky, to the blade of grass that covers the earth. And in His very tender and precise creation of man, He brought to the center an unseen mystery that puzzles carnal comprehension but has a rhythm of it’s own that is music to HIs ears. He listens intensely for the melody that is in unison to His, a harmony of sounds that can only be heard in the quiet times when everything is still…
Like the creative painting of the sky as the sun emerges from its canopy…like the whisper of the dawn of the morning, like the revealing light of the moon and the indescribable display of stars… it has a quiet sound…a steadfast rhythm that upon His hearing of what he or she brings, blends into and compliments His very own.
Dedicated to the Creator and Sustainer of Life…The Majestic I Am.
The few clouds in the visual substance the sun brings seem to stretch as they are formed to give us the first painting of the day. Echos of color seem to overlap each other while the sun hums a heartbeat that triggers the rays, and each cloud responds in harmonic unison in a breathtaking and vibrant display of gradients of pink and orange hues. The sky captures it all as if to stretch her arms in a motherly show of pride if just for a few minutes, giving many a chance to photograph the splendor of her grace…a silent melody from heaven while spectators watch in awe.
Who does the live painting of this spectacular showing? I had a dream once after my mother in law passed away, that I was in a white room with a man whose face I could not see. Dressed in a brilliant white robe, he held in his hand a palette, each color standing on it’s own and in his other hand was a brush. He quietly led me over to an easel that held a canvas, and as he touched the brush to the canvas, beautiful ribbons of sparkling blue danced across it. He continued to apply the brush to the canvas…just a whispering touch, and what slowly emerged was a beautiful image of my mother in law. I stood looking at this masterpiece almost afraid to breathe for fear that the sound could shatter that image, and then the dream faded as I gradually woke up.
Could the same person that was in that dream also be the One who paints the sky? Could He be the same who instructs the moon into position, the One who placed the stars and gave them life to twinkle over the vast length of darkened sky? The Spirit leads and brings life to all things created that was called to obediently move at His command…He breathed breath into the first man, and man became a living being…his eyes and ears open to see and hear for the first time…his Maker.
Oh, what a magnificent joy it must have been as He waited with bated breath for that moment! How the tears must have flowed from His eyes as the catch in His voice echoed the love as He spoke to His creation for the first time!
An exraordinary melody…
All creation has their very own unique sound, and unique symphanies of color that only the Creator can see and hear, from the birds that monitor the sky, to the blade of grass that covers the earth. And in His very tender and precise creation of man, He brought to the center an unseen mystery that puzzles carnal comprehension but has a rhythm of it’s own that is music to HIs ears. He listens intensely for the melody that is in unison to His, a harmony of sounds that can only be heard in the quiet times when everything is still…
Like the creative painting of the sky as the sun emerges from its canopy…like the whisper of the dawn of the morning, like the revealing light of the moon and the indescribable display of stars… it has a quiet sound…a steadfast rhythm that upon His hearing of what he or she brings, blends into and compliments His very own.
Dedicated to the Creator and Sustainer of Life…The Majestic I Am.
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