View from the Gutter

Looking across an exquisite ocean view, with the sun dipping into a lake of fire, I think of this earth and all its scenery, all its substance. In our days filled with technology and hurry, we forget about that giant sphere that's turning underneath our feet. I'm not a tree hugger or an environmentalist, but don't judge me. I love this ravishing place that God made. There are wonders at every turn, though I (and we) forget to notice them. I'm staring now at the magnificent trees just off my porch, leafing out their splendor. Just standing there, showing off, clapping their hands for the glory of God. People want to deny that. I read a comment yesterday from a cynical soul that challenged anyone to come up with just "one shred" of evidence that God exists. Dear man, you have been wounded or perhaps you've gone and puffed yourself up to be your own god. Look out thy window. Look down at your feet. Lay on the earth and feel the warmth, crumble the dirt there that feeds and sustains your health. A massive cycle of symbiosis throbs all around you, yet you imagine that it invented itself. Your cells work in an impossible orchestra, made with such precise design that it defies explanation. You want to argue about all the flaws, about what doesn't work. You hate me for loving Him, for believing in Him. You deny that there is such a thing as sin, yet you rail about the warts. I pray that someday you will see, that the scales will fall and your heart will nearly burst from the love that finally frees you. This not from a place of pride, nay, from the life of a beggar who knows her weakness and yes, warts, but who has been redeemed anyway.