land of rest

Land of Rest is a blog of Peter Jenks. Poems, quotes and photos are by Peter Jenks (unless otherwise noted or I miss noting an older post's photo) and are copyrighted, you are free to use these if you acknowledge their source.

This is also the site where I will be updating and listing the schedule for my radio show, Words of the Morning, which can be heard on WRFR.org on Tuesday and Thursday mornings from 7 am until 8 am.

Friday, April 12, 2013

This is Important

from google images
With a riveting fascination God watches the ant carry its crumb up and over grass and sticks. When every bulb grows up and finally breaks through the soil a host of angels sings Alleluia! Every little blossom and bloom of leaf on a tree is counted and painted carefully with the light of God’s paint brush. Every time a chicken lays an egg and clucks her song of its arrival, it is taped and replayed again and again in the heart of God. With every breath of God we feel the tide come in and go out again. And with every sunrise God shouts out to all that forgiveness is going to be flooding the planet again. With every day a tree stands still and waits patiently as birds live and breed in her limbs, God holds it gently like a precious and delicate treasure.
 
So often, I come to church with great sorrow or worries. I listen for God and cry out in my confusion. So often I feel so unworthy and undeserving of the many blessings that  surround me. “Why would God want to listen to my endless concerns and needs,” I feel. There are so many more deserving people, people in more pain or need than I could ever imagine.
 
How deeply arrogant it is to feel so special that I would be so undeserving. For a God who counts every tap a young chick makes upon its egg as it breaks its way out in life, who pauses every time I blink, and who stares intently on each rock upon the shore – watching it slowly move and change over the eons of its life; for such a God my thoughts and your thoughts are flowers upon the table, and our longings are the paintings upon Her walls.
 
We are important, we are crucial and everything around us is intricately interwoven into this rapt attention of God’s love. To think that we know or understand more than even an introduction into the volumes of God’s love is ridiculous. Again and again, the desires within us keep us from hearing the endless chatter of God, closing all the windows in order to dim the bird’s songs of joy in response to the jokes God keeps telling them.
 
If I will not dance, God will give me a song. If I will not sing, God will show me something beautiful. If I will not smile, God will simply hold me – and gently with the utmost respect and patience.

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