Have you ever played a song over and over again, till you just smile and want to play it one more time? It’s one of those days. I just keep pressing the back button till the guitar kicks its smooth elegance, then drums with a beat to make all dancing illiterate feet to dance, and lyrics singing “Wash away, wash away the sound of all these sad days, the sound of the wind blowing, say we’ll be here always” (Nizlopi).
And my beautiful sweetheart ain’t here with me. But I’d play her this song. And we could sit in my car right before the bay. Watch the waves break from all frozen morning. Watch them through filters of reeds blowing, moving, how can they not be frozen with snow at their feet?
So.
Cold.
Maybe we’d take up the two chairs that are just perched at the edge of the rocks. Stolen from someone’s house like someone had the thought of the world being their house; like God’s creation is the only place to ever live, not houses as we know them. We’d sit out in an open-air shelter so wherever we go in life will always be home to us. So that no matter how far she is from me, she’s still at home when she walks to work, walks out her door, walks anywhere where God has already been.
We’d sit and watch the grey horizon grow dimmer with the day. Sit and wonder how this far away, this – I can’t picture this future when I’m not with her, but it’s days like these sitting before the bay listening to songs over and over again, play: “Wash away, wash away the sound of all these sad days, the sound of the wind blowing, say we’ll be here always” (Nizlopi). It’s times like these that no distance can tear me from her. Because...
The heavens declare the glory of
God,
and the sky above proclaims his
handiwork.
(Psalms 19:1)
It’s when I’m sitting here, away from all the hustle and bustle of our modern society, that I’m able to see my God. When I have the sun breaking snowy clouds and making me squint. When
I stare off and see blues mixed with whites, grays, pales like some kids upstairs had fun out in their winter tundra building castles in the sky, with clouds for sand and sky-sands for pale-formed towers. When I’m able to see the world as still, with trees barely holding on through the winter, but I bet they’re really used to this because it’s nothing out of the ordinary.
I mean – God is still God. The same God I’m able to enjoy in the most simple way: when I’m sitting cold in my car, playing the same song over and over again singing “Wash away, wash away the sound of all these sad days, the sound of the wind blowing, say we’ll be here always” (Nizlopi). It’s the same God who orchestrates life.
I mean – the every single little minute detail of the day. The way I notice foot-tread snow with hole for hole leaving evidence of every pedestrian having passed by similar sites. The way my eyes pull together the entire scope of this morning’s reality. And how creation acts all of one accord like some secret unheard language whispered from plant to plant, waters to horizon, giving way to miles and miles; she is so many far miles away from me, but this same God is so many more miles far greater than all distance between me and her. Because...
Day to day pours out speech,
and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words,
whose voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out through all the
earth,
and their words to the end of the
world.
(Psalm 19:2-4)
And I am able to watch the day evolve. Watch God land a group of ducks and stir others to whist and whirl and spin in the air like some carnival ride with no strings attached. I am able to see God in his perfect nature.
It is here in nature that I am comforted about every turmoil, trauma, trial, hardship, longsuffering, anything that really plagues my living. Because it’s here that I see God and I keep playing over “Wash away, wash away the sound of all these sad days, the sound of the wind blowing, say we’ll be here always” (Nizlopi).
So today, may you look for God under the heavens and have eyes wide-open to his handiwork. And may you revel in his glory.
(...today you are not far from me.)
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