Miniature miracles

During the past five weeks, this blog has been silent for all kinds of reasons. Important reasons. Significant reasons. Meaningful reasons.

Reasons that amount to less-than-piffle in the grand scheme of the grand universe, a grandness that is often best realized in the most un-grand of places during the most un-grand of times, say, the lawn’s border bushes at 9:07 on a Sunday morning.

Morning dew (Photo: CKirgiss)
Webbed dew (Photo: CKirgiss)
Webbed dew (Photo: CKirgiss)
Webbed dew (Photo: CKirgiss)

During the past five weeks, I finished a dissertation. Defended a dissertation. Was hooded by an esteemed academic.

. . . while each morning, the dew fell to the ground, landing on leaf and rock and web alike, a miniature miracle reflecting God’s power, creativity, and joy.

All of which had absolutely nothing to do with my significant, important, and meaningful things.

Not even the tiniest bit.

What manner of grace is this that God would (does) allow a world full of supremely legit, significant, important, and meaningful folk enjoy, revel in, and (if all goes well) be humbled by the drops with which he paints the morning ground in a dazzling splendor of diamond dew?

What manner, indeed.

The silence brought on by significant, important, and meaningful busyness (whether we like it or not) does nothing more than reveal the empty spaces and confused graces of our lives.

The silence embodied in God’s elegant, astounding, and breathtaking creation (if we allow it) fills our empty spaces with unspeakable joy and boundless hope.

Of these two silences, the world esteems the first and disdains the second.

I choose the second.




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