There is nothing insignificant in the world.
It all depends on the point of view.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Who am I oh Lord that you should consider my worth…
That you, the God of all that was…
Of all that is…
And all that will be…
Whose hands sweep across time…
Who has masterfully scattered the stars across the heavens…
And whose own breath is captured in the rhythmic roll of each and
every crashing wave…would look upon me,
a tiny speck in the vast churning sea of life and humanity…
And call me your own
A thousand tiny petals…
Each lovingly placed by your hand and your hand alone.
Counted, numbered and perfectly aligned.
Tightly woven.
Spiraling outward.
Unfurling simultaneously.
An insignificant happening transpiring daily and unnoticed by millions…
Yet You are keenly aware of it all as nothing, absolutely nothing,
takes place on this planet without your desire and knowledge
(stamens full of pollen / Julie Cook / 2015)
Each tiny microscopic dot of pollen exists because You have deemed it so.
Every single unassuming spore, necessary to set a miraculous chain
of events into motion,
Exists only because of You.
Pollination, a miracle unto itself, yet countlessly taken for granted,
Plays out every day, over an endless expanse of time,
as yet another flower blooms.
My mind is woefully limited, unable to grasp the vastness of all that is You.
I cannot understand how or why You, the all encompassing You,
stops because of the small and insignificant me.
Yet stop You do.
You stop to
Listen
See
Touch
Care
Love
Long before my birth, You claimed me as yours–
with both the rising and setting of the sun.
The Psalmists tells me that each hair on my aging head is accounted for
And that nothing which transpires in my life escapes your knowledge.
As I often…
Question…
Wonder…
Argue…
Curse…and rail against the seemingly random and mindless fates
of life that appear unfair and unjust.
Yet each life is inextricably linked together
Each breath, each tear, each sound of joy, pain or sorrow
is woven tightly together, as the Master of the Universe
Jehovah-Jireh has declared it so . . .
As You, the Master weaver, Jehovah-Rapha has knit my heart to your own.
May the Glory of the Heavens declare your Majesty, Oh Lord. . .
May the earth, and all that is in it, sing your praise.
And may my seemingly insignificance, which is held tightly in your hand,
as I am never from your sight, be a testament to your enduring Love
Forever and always…
Amen
Beautiful. Guides me to adoration of our Loving God this morning.
Thank you Oneta
His handiwork is evident everywhere. Love your photos❤️
Oldies but goodies 🥰
I do that quite often now. Especially when I’m depressed,
Obviously I do too 😉
Oh, no😳
misery loves company 😉
Beautiful poem. The photos reminded me of my uncle, who passed many years ago from ALS. He experimented with Amaryllis. He would take the pollen from one and sprinkle it on a different one to see what he would get. It took a few years from the pod left when the bloom died to a bulb large enough to produce a bloom – the next year. You warmed my heart with your words, and stimulated memories with your photos. Sometimes that is a full day. I may need to take a nap.
Thank you Mark for your kind words— sometimes looking back is a bittersweet comfort 😉
Very much so. He started his experiments in time to see the fruits of his labors, but I wondered how many bulbs never reached maturity due to his illness. My heart skipped a beat there for a moment.
Just beautiful Julie! ♥️
thank you my dear friend—I’ve needed to obviously go backwards a bit and revisit some of the thoughts once felt!
That our Triune God would love and save me, as insignifant as I am
it is amazing for I am not worth such
Same with me Julie!
very humbling Jim
Indeed!