Cindy and I used to walk to our guitar lessons if the weather permitted. It was roughly one mile to the little studio where an accomplished instructor did his best to teach classical guitar to two young teen-age girls. Much to his chagrin, we were only interested in quickly and magically learning how to play the familiar music of the day, and nothing he said seemed to impress us otherwise. Never-the-less, he tried hard to teach Cindy, who at least had a natural inclination towards music, and me, even though I did not. I have no doubt that he pulled some of his hair out by the roots when Cindy and I headed out the door and walked home.
We always arrived home before it actually got dark, with the sun slowly setting behind our backs. One day we watched the sky ahead of us, noting how strange it looked. I don’t know whether we were experiencing our very first view of a harvest moon or some other lunar phenomenon; but whatever it was called, we both mistook it to be the sun. We kept staring when she suddenly freaked out and shouted, “The sun is setting in the east!” We then screamed in unison and ran as fast as we could the remainder of the way home; our guitar cases banging the sides of our legs as we went. We both frantically barged into Cindy’s house, certain that the world was coming to an end. Her mother chuckled and quickly calmed us down as she explained what we were seeing.
Do you remember the first time you saw the northern lights or a moon dog? Do you recall the fascination and fear you experienced when you saw a water spout, a tornado, or a cloud that seemed to continuously glow with unending lightning? What did you feel when the ground began to quake under your feet causing every sturdy thing to give sway? Are you still filled with a sense of awe and wonder as you experience the handiwork of God throughout life? Psalm 8:1,3-4 (NASB) O Lord, How majestic is Thy name in all the earth, Who hast displayed Thy splendor above the heavens! When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and stars which Thou hast ordained: What is man, that Thou dost take thought of him? And what is the son of man, that Thou dost care for him?
I was probably around eight years old when I first experienced the northern lights. My brother, sister and I were walking down the creek bed at night with our father to where our boat was docked. I ran ahead of the others. As I rounded a bend, the sky was suddenly full of beautiful, terrifying lights. I turned immediately and ran as fast as I could into the arms of my father, clinging to him for dear life!
That’s exactly as it should be. The heavens declare the glory of God, this one true God who mysteriously loves us. The firmament proclaims how capable He is. Stars are a shining example of His creativity. Waterfalls and rapids that He has designed demonstrate an infinitesimal fraction of His strength. His perfect Son on the cross proclaims His tender love for us. I can go on and on forever about the greatness
of God. In fact, that is exactly what I will do; for when I saw the majesty and splendor of God, I ran into His arms, clinging to Him for dear life! You can too. What is man that God is mindful of us? Man is loved.