Monday is named after the moon. This past Monday that little celestial rock stole the show.
I’ll get to that. But first let us consider the lilies of the field—or, in this instance, bluebells—as we take my six-month-old puppy for a walk.
Monday morning, just as day breaks, I hook a leash to Thelma’s collar. She bangs her tail against my leg.
(Oh boy, we’re going for a walk. My favorite thing.)
We walk across the yard. I open the gate onto the trail that winds through the woods. We step into a sea of dewy bluebells covering the entire path. I’m impressed. Thelma’s not.
She tugs on the leash nosing her way through waves of bluebells, sniffing out our usual route. Bees buzz. Thelma whacks one, steps on it, whines, and noses on.
The sun rises. Birds chirp, breezes waft, bluebells radiate, trees foliate, worms squirm, Thelma romps. The earth is alive. Back in the house I set down a bowl of food for her. She wags her tail wildly.
(Oh boy, my favorite thing.)
And I think to myself, What a wonderful world.
That afternoon I and millions of other people observe our tiny moon eclipse our enormous sun. It’s awesome. And to think that descendants of apes on the third rock from the sun foresaw it and invented eye-shields to safely see it. Humankind is awesome.
And I think to myself, What a wonderful world.
Bluebells, breezes, bees, trees, a puppy, and a solar eclipse all in one day. Indeed, what a wonderful world. It’s astonishing. It’s astounding.
And I think to myself, All this can’t be by chance.
Well, yes, it can. I know the science. I believe in the Big Bang, physics, chemistry, and evolution. But, somehow, it’s not enough.
No, I can’t believe what Creationists believe. I can’t take Genesis literally. I can’t ignore facts. But I can believe in a creator as artist, singer, dancer, and lover. Most people do. It’s just too looney for most people to think this wondrous world and vast universe appeared by chance.
Yes, I know, some do. Some hard-core rationalists and secularists have unwittingly drained the poetry out of the world. But we can’t live on prose alone. We need poetry, prayer, and praise.
All things bright and beautiful,
all things wise and wonderful,
all creatures great and small,
the Lord God made them all.
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