Plenty of Glory

631471_603a2221ce0d165a4a4656e9003c299a_large

Even a bare-bones human existence
contains enough glory to stagger
anyone of us into bewildered awe.

–Eugene Peterson

Heaven Breaking Through

Autumn Mist Wallpaper__yvt2 copy

All that is sweet, delightful, and amiable in this world, in the serenity of the air, the fineness of the seasons, the joy of light, the melody of sounds, the beauty of colors, the fragrancy of smells, the splendor of precious stones, is nothing else but Heaven breaking through the veil of this world.

—William Law
(1686 – 1761) 

Standing On The Threshold

looking at sunset copy 4

I tended at this stage to think of my Christian faith as a philosophy of life, not a religion. I had grasped something of its intellectual appeal but had yet to discover its imaginative, ethical and spiritual depths. I had a sense of standing on the threshold of something beautiful and amazing, which my reason had tantalizingly only grasped in part. Like Einstein, I realized that nature “shows us only the lions tail,” while hinting at the majesty and grandeur of the magnificent animal to which it is attached—and to which it ultimately leads.

–Alister McGrath,
University of Oxford Professor

Why Is The World So Fair?

susetpeaks-1600x901 copy

If it be all for naught, for nothingness
At last, why does God make the world so fair?
Why spill this golden splendor out across
The western hills, and light the silver lamp
Of eve? Why give me eyes to see, and soul
To love so strong and deep? Then, with a pang
This brightness stabs me through, and wakes within
Rebellious voice to cry against all death?
Why set this hunger for eternity
To gnaw my heartstrings through, if death ends all?
If death ends all, then evil must be good,
Wrong must be right, and beauty ugliness.
God is a Judas who betrays His Son,
And with a kiss, damns all the world to hell,–
If Christ rose not again.

–Anonymous soldier killed in World War I,
from: Masterpieces of Religious Verse

There’s a Romance Going On

images

Something or someone has romanced us from the beginning with creek-side singers and pastel sunsets, with the austere majesty of snowcapped mountains and the poignant frames of autumn colors telling us of something—or someone—leaving, with a promise to return. These things can, in an unguarded moment, bring us to our knees with longing for this something or someone who is lost; someone or something only our heart recognizes.

–Brent Curtis & John Eldredge
The Sacred Romance