Recently, I was at a restaurant, loading up my plate at the salad bar when I noticed, as if for the first time, the baco-bits. They are so unnatural. How do they make those things? Where did they come up with that hot-pink neon color? Then, a few days later, as Chris and I were taking our regular prayer walk, we were absolutely astounded by the blazing, deep orange ball of the sun rising in all of its brilliance. I concluded that God does color so much better than red dye number 2.
When we look at creation—I mean really take a few moments to push “end” on the cellphone, to stop the car, to take a break from vacuuming, planning, and running—we can’t help but be overwhelmed by its amazing beauty. We’re struck by the infinite imagination of our Father who loves to “wow” us with a daily display that makes Disney World productions look like someone flashing a pen light on a wrinkled bed sheet. Why should we be so blessed as to be privy to the deep salmon color of a mile-high cloud bank reflecting the newly risen sun? Why should we be so blessed as to look out from the top a snow-capped mountain upon countless acres of plush valley? Why should we have the wonderful opportunity of dozing off under an umbrella to the rhythmic sounds of frothy surf?
For that matter, why should God choose us not only to experience these wonders but to someday inherit a New Earth where beauty will never be tainted by disaster, heartache, or death again?
Ps 8:3-4
3 When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
4 what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
NIV
