When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?
Before moving to Oregon, I’d never seen a shooting star. Not in Seattle, not in Des Moines, not in Chicago. But sitting on our back porch without city light pollution, we saw them all the time. That was one of the first times I was awe-struck by the moon and stars. Stars are amazing enough; even in the city we could see stars. But to see stars that were fizzling out, thousands of years ago – that was amazing.
I don’t understand astronomy or astrophysics, but I do know that there is only a limited array of substances from which all things are made, and that I’m made from the same stuff as the moon, stars, trees, oceans, animals, sidewalks – everything. That is amazing. Whether you think it’s amazing because of the science behind it all, or the mystery behind it all, it’s astounding, really.
Not only are we all made from the same stuff, but I know that God loves each of us, as God’s most precious. The vastness of God’s love for humanity is mind boggling, if you imagine the 7.8 billion people God loves. And God knows my getting up, and sitting down, my thoughts, dreams, and fears. That means that God’s love is not only wide, but deep. God knows the number of hairs on my head, and grains of sand, and keeps the oceans in their place.
Again, whether the awe stems from God’s handiworks, or the mysteries of physics, biology, anatomy, and engineering, we live in an absolutely amazing world.
This morning, I’m thinking about the breadth and depth of God’s creative powers and love. When I head out on my walk in the morning sunshine, I will pause to be grateful for all of the created beauty, and wonder how God can care for us mere mortals at the same time.
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