The Face of God

I see here the face of God--not the glory of heavenly brilliance, but the muted reflection in earthen forms. If but an ounce of His glory enhances the creation, it shines through.

Spring, with flower spangled verdant, shouts, "Life." A new, soft green flows from hilltop to brook's edge. Butterfly wings blend with flower blossoms. Migrators and hibernators now flit and bounce motion into landscapes. God is the source of all life. As if in a dim mirror, spring provides us with a glimpse of Him.

Summer, with heat and rains, renders growth. Corn and cotton, apple and oak tree, deer and sheep all grow with vigor in season. God, the provider, gives the growth. Summer lends its magic to our necessities and we see Him when we close our eyes in thanksgiving in the morning or at the table.

Autumn, with a palette of rainbow richness, radiates beauty. Spectrum light dances from the hardwoods as maturing wood ducks add iridescence. God mixed a thousand tones that we might perceive at a speck of glory. In Autumn, I sense a prelude of heaven's glow.

Winter lends the wonder of white. A landscape that sheds its autumn glory now hides beneath the purest hue. If chance could muster anything, what color would it make its snow? God is the cause and winter reflects His holiness. Here God reminds us that mud and mundane on our robes can too be cleansed.

Our souls long to see the face of God. Our eyes are windows. Volumes record what has passed through human eyes to the brain. But the gaze of the soul penetrates more dimensions. Perhaps I marvel most at what the souls of some blind people see. Then I wonder if the sighted should open or close their eyes to see the face of God.

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