Speaking Of Life 3022 | The Green in Rugged Pastures
Greg Williams

One of the most famously quoted Psalms is Psalm 23, and if you don’t understand the countryside in Israel, you can miss part of the meaning of the Psalm.

You know the Psalm, which begins like this:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.

Psalm 26:1-2 (NRSV)

If you go to the countryside in Israel, you can see what the psalmist looked at as he penned the words “green pastures.” Even today there are teenagers from shepherd families out walking their charges on grazing trails carved into the land since the time of Abraham. But the “green pastures” the Psalmist referred to are nothing like the luscious midwestern landscape this may bring to mind for a westerner.

The landscape is rugged semi-desert, not the waist-high grasses that we may think of. The first time one biblical scholar saw the sheep out grazing here, he thought they were eating rocks! But yet this is the place that David calls “green pastures.” Look closer, and there is just enough moisture in the air and scarce rainfall to grow the smallest shoots of vegetation around the rocks.

There’s just enough for a few mouthfuls every few steps, and the sheep have to keep moving, they must keep following the shepherd to find sustenance. There’s no lush green pastures to sit and get fat in, but there’s enough to make it through and keep going, and when the grass runs out, the sheep trust the shepherd will bring them to more.

This changes our understanding of Christ. While the pictures of a very Caucasian Jesus walking his sheep through waving pastures are nice and comforting for many, they are wholly inaccurate. What David saw was the much more true-to-life picture of a rugged landscape in which the sheep’s only chance of survival is the shepherd’s guidance and love.

One of the greatest questions of our Christian life is: Do we trust the shepherd to give us enough?

Most of the time in life, we’re not flooded with spiritual, physical, or relational bounty, but if we keep moving, we find that Jesus guides us. A mouthful here, a mouthful there. A kind word from a stranger, an unexpected gift from a friend, a favorite meal made by your spouse.

This is how our Lord Jesus leads us to green pastures. Our shepherd gives us all we need, and the point is to trust him and keep following.

I’m Greg Williams, Speaking of Life.

Speaking Of Life 3021 | Jesus Goes Viral
Jeff Broadnax

Have you ever seen a video that moved you so much or made you laugh so hard that you just had to share it with someone else? If so, you may have participated in making that video “go viral.”

When a video “goes viral” it spreads exponentially with little effort or expense. This is a dream come true for advertisers or artists. In fact, many try to produce this phenomenon by implementing various strategies or tactics but there is no sure way of guaranteeing a video will “go viral.” It only happens when the video connects with people in a significant way and it is shared.  A particularly moving video can get shared around the globe and viewed by millions in a very short time.

We could say this is similar to how the Gospel gets spread around the world. It’s not that someone came up with some brilliant marketing strategy–or perhaps some ONE did–but rather it happens when a person has seen and been moved by Jesus. That personal encounter, I call those divine appointments, leads to a natural sharing of the Good News of who Jesus is and what he has done. Like seeing that amazing video, seeing Jesus compels us to share with others in hope that they too will see Jesus. He’s just too good not to share.

Unlike a video that goes viral, seeing Jesus is not a short-lived experience. It’s a lifelong relationship of seeing and coming to know him and his Father by the Spirit, day in and day out. The more we turn to him and come to see and know him the more our witness of him will naturally flow out of us. We won’t need any fancy marketing campaigns. We will just tell that epic story as we experienced it.

Listen to the interplay between experiencing God personally and witnessing to him publicly in this Psalm:

Answer me when I call to you, my righteous God.
Give me relief from my distress; have mercy on me and hear my prayer.
How long will you people turn my glory into shame?
How long will you love delusions and seek false gods?
Know that the Lord has set apart his faithful servant for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him.
Tremble and do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent. Offer the sacrifices of the righteous and trust in the Lord.

Many, Lord, are asking, “Who will bring us prosperity?”
Let the light of your face shine on us.
Fill my heart with joy
when their grain and new wine abound.

In peace I will lie down and sleep,
for you alone, Lord,
make me dwell in safety.

Psalm 4:1-8

When we see Jesus, we will also see that Jesus is the true Witness in the World. He has known the Father for all eternity and knows just how good he is. Since Jesus sees the Father, he is compelled to share him with us.

We could say that Jesus is the Someone who shared the “visual” of his relationship with the Father. Let’s celebrate the One who shines the light and love of the Father and join in on Jesus going viral.

I’m Jeff Broadnax, Speaking of Life.

Speaking Of Life 3020 | Life in a Handful of Dust
Greg Williams

John starts his gospel work “In the beginning.” Later Jesus creates sight for a blind man with a handful of dust. After his resurrection, he meets Mary in a garden on Easter morning. In the Upper Room, he breathes on his apostles. Notice John’s words:

Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.

John 20:21-22 (ESV)

Throughout the gospels, most vividly in John, we see the familiar images of dust, gardens, and breath. History started this way, in the garden, where God first breathed life into Adam. Here at the start of the New Testament church, Jesus begins the whole process again, by breathing the Spirit into us.

There’s that Hebrew word for breath—ruach—the word for Spirit.

Instead of destroying us for our rebellion and for turning from him, instead of starting over with a scorched earth policy from the ground up, God came here himself to re-create. These echoes of creation remind us that God always kept a remnant, Noah, the Exodus, the people brought back from exile. And then he brought forth his Son from one family, one woman, one womb.

He kept the remnant because that was his plan all along. He is the God who re-creates. He takes the dust and waste that sin has turned the world into and starts his kingdom here and says, “It is good.”

Has he breathed life into the dust of your life? Has he taken what is lifeless and dry and made it live? Think of the addict who is healed and goes onto support other addicts. Think of a mother who was hurt and abused as a child, but was then given her own children to cherish and break that cycle of pain.

We live in a world of death and resurrection with a God who, over and over, breathes life into a handful of dust. How is he breathing life into you?

I’m Greg Williams Speaking of Life.

In the quiet embrace of dawn, the world stirs with a promise of new life. As the sun’s first rays cast aside the shadows of the night, we are reminded of a profound truth – that the resurrection of Jesus brings forth the dawn of our own resurrection.

Easter Sunday heralds a symphony of hope, for the tomb could not contain the Author of Life. In his rising, we too find our own awakening, intricately woven with the very essence of the One who conquered death.

Through the Incarnation, we have been intricately connected—with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Bonded by love, we stand as one, sharing in the victory of the empty tomb.

As we gather in worship, hearts united with Christ and one another, we rejoice in the truth that our resurrection is bound to His. In the dance of life, we find our steps guided by the risen Christ, leading us towards the fullness of His promise.

Just as spring bursts forth in glorious bloom, so too does the resurrection of Christ herald the ultimate restoration of all creation. His plan, intricately woven into the very fabric of time, surpasses our finite understanding.

In the brilliance of Easter’s dawn, we are reminded that Jesus is not finished with us. He beckons us forward, towards the fullness of His restored creation, where every tear will be wiped away, and every heart will find its true home.

” On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare
    a feast of rich food for all peoples,
a banquet of aged wine—
    the best of meats and the finest of wines.
⁷ On this mountain he will destroy
    the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
⁸     he will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears
    from all faces;
he will remove his people’s disgrace
    from all the earth.
The Lord has spoken.

⁹ In that day they will say,

“Surely this is our God;
    we trusted in him, and he saved us.
This is the Lord, we trusted in him;
    let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.”

Resurrection. Redemption. Restoration. May we walk in the fullness of this glorious truth.
He is Risen!

There are moments in life that bridge the realms of what was and what will be. Places of transition, a threshold between what was and what will be. This is the liminal space, where the old fades away, and the new has yet to fully emerge. It is here, in this space of Holy Saturday.

As we journey through life’s transitional times, we are reminded that we are not alone. In the midst of uncertainty, we find our refuge in the steadfast love of the Almighty.

In Psalm 31, we hear the ancient cry of the soul, a plea for God’s guidance and protection. “In you, Lord, I have taken refuge; let me never be put to shame; deliver me in your righteousness.” These words resonate through the ages, a reminder that we can find solace in the arms of our Creator.

For he is the rock of our salvation, our fortress in times of trouble. “Into your hands I commit my spirit; deliver me, Lord, my faithful God.” These words of Jesus echo the trust that flows from the depths of a heart anchored in faith and assured of God’s goodness.

As we navigate these seasons of our lives, we are reminded that the God who shaped the universe also shapes our destiny. “The Lord watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.” In him, we find our refuge and our strength.

And now, as we embrace the shadow of Holy Saturday, we are reminded that even in our darkest moments, there is a glimmer of hope. For beyond this threshold of uncertainty lies the promise of Easter morn.

In the stillness of the tomb, we wait. And as we wait, we hold on to the assurance that a new dawn is on the horizon, ready to burst forth in radiant glory.

So, take heart, for our salvation draws near. Let Psalm 31 be our anchor, our refuge, and our strength in the liminal spaces of life.

Psalm 31:1-5,23-24

¹ In you, LORD, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame;
deliver me in your righteousness.
2 Turn your ear to me,
come quickly to my rescue;
be my rock of refuge,
a strong fortress to save me.
³ Since you are my rock and my fortress,
for the sake of your name lead and guide me.
⁴ Keep me free from the trap that is set for me,
for you are my refuge.
⁵ Into your hands I commit my spirit;
deliver me, LORD, my faithful God.

²³ Love the LORD, all his faithful people!
The LORD preserves those who are true to him,
but the proud he pays back in full.
²⁴ Be strong and take heart,
all you who hope in the LORD.

This is Holy Saturday—a day of reflection, transition, and anticipation. May your soul find rest in Christ.

Love, a force both gentle and mighty, has the extraordinary power to transform hearts and souls. It is a beacon of light that guides us through the darkest of storms, a force that reshapes us and the world around us.

Imagine, if you will, the vast, boundless ocean—a sea that knows no end, filled with countless mysteries and hidden depths. In its waves, we discover the essence of Jesus’ earthly ministry, a ministry that washed over humanity like a cleansing rain, offering new life and hope.

On this sacred day of Maundy Thursday, we gather in worship to commemorate Christ’s humble and loving sacrifice for us, recognizing that his actions were firmly grounded in the profound and transformative power of love, a love that flows from the heart of our Triune God.

In the quietude of that upper room, where the disciples gathered with their Lord, a remarkable event transpired. Jesus, knowing that his time had come, rose from the table and took a basin and a towel. He knelt before his disciples and began to wash their feet.

Can you imagine the humility in his actions? The Son of God, the King of Kings, performing this simple act of service. In this humble act, He revealed a new way, a new paradigm of relationship with the divine—a way rooted in love.

He said, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” The commandment was clear—love, selfless and unconditional love, was to be the hallmark of his followers. This was not just any love, but a love that mirrored his own, a love that transcended boundaries, a love that served and gave without expecting anything in return.

Maundy Thursday challenges us to rethink our relationships with ourselves, God, and others. It invites us to see the face of God in one another and to be vessels of love, compassion, and service in a world often filled with division and discord. In this new way, we are called to join with Jesus in breaking down the barriers that separate us, to extend a hand of kindness to our neighbors, to offer the refreshment of grace and the cleansing of reconciliation, reflecting the Triune nature of the Divine, where grace, forgiveness, and love flow together.

In recognizing the profound love that Christ offers, we also acknowledge the gift of grace and forgiveness that he extends to each of us. As we open our hearts to his love, we find ourselves bathed in the waters of his grace, washed clean by the gift of his forgiveness.

This act of grace, this embrace of forgiveness, empowers us to become instruments of his love in the world. We are not only recipients of this divine love; we are invited to be conduits of it, reflecting the unity of the Holy Trinity.

As we honor the legacy of Jesus Christ on this Maundy Thursday, let us remember that his commandment is not only about words but about actions. It is about living out his love, his grace, and his forgiveness, as we become beacons of hope in a world that so desperately needs it.

May this Maundy Thursday be an invitation to join Jesus in lovingly and humbly serving the world around us. In the simplicity of love and service, we discover a profound connection with the divine—a connection that transcends time and place, and renews our spirits for the journey ahead.

In the midst of the changing seasons, when the world comes alive with the promise of renewal, we gather together to commemorate Palm Sunday. Today, the first day of Holy Week, we turn our hearts and minds to Philippians 2:5-11, unveiling the Passion of our Lord and His boundless compassion for the world.

“In Philippians 2:5-11, Paul writes:

⁵ In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

⁶ Who, being in very nature God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
⁷ rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
⁸ And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

⁹ Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
    and gave him the name that is above every name,
¹⁰ that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
¹¹ and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.

In the midst of the jubilation, we stand on the precipice of a profound week—a week that would test the very fiber of Jesus’ being. Challenges awaited him, yet he faced them with unwavering resolve, for it was compassion that fueled his every step.

From the intimate communion of the Last Supper to the anguished cries in the Garden of Gethsemane, and the weight of judgment in the halls of power, Jesus bore the weight of our humanity. Each step, each trial, marked by his unyielding love for us all.

As the cross loomed, a symbol of sacrifice, it was not duty or obligation that led Jesus forward, but an all-encompassing love for humanity. He took upon himself the weight of our transgressions, surrendering himself for our sake.

As we navigate Holy Week, let us reflect on the overwhelming compassion our Lord has extended to us. He relinquished the glory of heaven to embrace the humility of the earth. Whether you are basking in spring’s embrace or facing the chill of autumn, you are never alone. He is with us, and his compassion is a guiding light, leading us through the darkest hours.

This Palm Sunday, let us reflect on the humility and compassion of Christ. Let us release our burdens at the feet of the One who bore the world’s burdens on his shoulders.

As we continue our journey towards the cross, let us remember that the Passion of our Lord signifies his limitless compassion for the world, transcending every boundary and division. In a world longing for hope and healing, may we become vessels of his boundless compassion. Let us be the hands that reach out, the hearts that love, and the feet that follow in his footsteps.

Speaking Of Life 3017 | See the Manager
Jeff Broadnax

Have you ever had a sour experience in a restaurant or retail store that prompted you to say, “I want to see the manager”? Maybe you felt the server was out of line or perhaps you had a disagreement at the return desk. When we say, “I want to see the manager,” we are appealing to a higher authority to settle our problem. We have had enough, and we want to be satisfied.

Been there? Reflect with me for a moment on that experience. When we say, “I want to see the manager,” we don’t really mean that we want to see the manager. What we are really saying is “I want to see things go my way” or “I want to see my complaint settled in my favor.” We mean to be satisfied. We most likely have never met the manager or know anything about her.

Now, consider this. Do we treat Jesus like the manager of a store when our experience turns sour? Is our desire to “see Jesus” really a desire in our heart to get our own way? When we are honest with ourselves, I think we would have to admit there are many times our desire to “see Jesus” is really our desire to get our way, on our terms.

It’s OK to confess that. The Lord already knows, and he knows how to change our hearts. In fact, that’s one of the reasons Jesus was sent to us. He came so we could indeed “see” him by the power of the Holy Spirit, and in seeing him come to know him and his Father who sent him.

That’s why we can pray with boldness this prayer recorded by David who went from seeking his own way to desiring to see and be transformed by God: desired to see and be transformed by God:

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.” 
Psalm 51:10-12 (NRSV)

When we really “see Jesus” and see his Father which he reveals by the Spirit, we find that the desires of our heart are satisfied or at least settled in him. We come to want to “see Jesus” because he, and the revelation of his Father, is beautiful to behold. This is when our desire grows to want to know him personally for who he is and not as a means to get our own way.

May our Father give you eyes to see how he is working even in your sour experiences and fill you with joy as you walk with Jesus.

I’m Jeff Broadnax, Speaking of Life.

Speaking Of Life 3016 | The Sacred Irony
Greg Williams

A memory scripture from my youth is a familiar verse to many. In fact, it’s a gold standard for kids memorizing scripture in Sunday Schools and Vacation Bible School.

 For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. Ephesians 2:8-9 (ESV)

This verse is one of the anthem cries of our faith, especially in the evangelical protestant tradition. We are saved by grace, not by good works or good nature or good attitudes, or whatever plea we make on our own behalf. Salvation is the gift of God.

But look at the next verse:

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:10 (ESV)

Did Paul just do a 180° here? He was talking about how salvation is the gift of grace, not works, and then in the next breath, he’s talking about how God has prepared good works for us beforehand to adopt as our lifestyle. Is this a contradiction?

Not at all. It is important to know that Paul isn’t talking about “good works” as some way to merit God’s favor or “earn” our way into heaven. And there is no discussion in this passage of somehow keeping God happy. The verses before make it clear that our identity in Christ is sealed and delivered.

Paul is talking about life, and by “life” I mean real life, full life, spirit-filled life, which the New Testament writers called “zoe.” This is eternal life, and it begins today, right now, in Christ. It also deepens and broadens as we experience Christ by joining him in his work in the world—the “good works” that Paul is talking about. This is the key.

The best life is knowing Christ and walking with him—participating with him in his good works. This is the sacred irony of freedom through obedience; experiencing fullness by giving everything back to him.

Jesus saved us, but he doesn’t just wait for us to meet him after death. He leads us, by the Spirit, to serving and loving and giving and we meet him every day and join him in the daily good works he has prepared for us.

I am Greg Williams, Speaking of the fullness of Life.

Speaking Of Life 3015 | The Opposite Game
Michelle Fleming

I used to be a teacher, and one technique I learned that helped kids understand antonyms was the “Opposite Game.” The game involved using flashcards with words like “hot,” and the first student to answer with an appropriate opposite, like “cold,” would get a point. The idea was that by helping students understand what a word was not, they would better understand what the original word means.

In the Bible, the writers sometimes use opposite examples called contrasts, exaggerations called hyperbole, and other literary techniques to make their point. The apostle Paul used “The Opposite Game” in his first letter to the Corinthians to help them understand what God’s wisdom is not—so they could grow in their awareness of what God’s wisdom truly is.

Paul begins by pointing out how the idea of Christ on the Cross seems silly to those who aren’t interested in pursuing a relationship with God, but to those who are interested, the Cross portrays the love of God for all humanity. He writes,

For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe.
1 Corinthians 1:21 (NRSV)

One translator said God was turning conventional wisdom on its head in order to expose so-called experts as crackpots. In other words—opposites.

Paul continues using opposites to show how God’s way is completely different—“opposite”—to the way humanity thinks.  He points out that the Jews were looking for miracles and the Greeks were searching for wisdom in the philosophy of the day. To both groups, the idea of self-sacrificing love on the Cross was not only the opposite of a miracle, it was absurd. Paul shows how God’s way of love, evidenced by Christ on the Cross, helps us think beyond our limited human scope:

but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.
1 Corinthians 1:24-25 (ESV)

Human beings tend to put God in a box—one that looks like what our human wisdom dictates as reasonable and prudent. God’s love for humanity is the opposite of reasonable and prudent. It is lavish, excessive, and strong—even as it is self-sacrificing. Paul wanted the Corinthians to understand that the truth of God’s being was the opposite of humanity’s typical way of loving and living.

Learning about opposites helps kids understand the meanings of words more fully. Human love is often finite and self-seeking, but God’s love is infinite and self-sacrificing. Considering how God’s way of moving in the world contrasts with our own helps us understand how deeply we are loved. We are safe in the certainty that God’s “opposite” kind of love will never let us down or let us go.

God’s love, evidenced by Christ on the Cross, is stronger and deeper than anything you can ever imagine.

I’m Michelle Fleming, Speaking of Life.

Speaking of Life 3013 | Rainbow’s Promise
Greg Williams

Do you remember the first time you saw a rainbow?

Rainbows are iconic, universal, showing up in legends and stories throughout history. Despite years of pollution and our increasingly busy lives, rainbows still make us stop…and look up.

The first recorded rainbow appears in Genesis 9, just after the flood recedes. Noah walks out into the steaming earth and hears the voice of God:

I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh.
Genesis 9:13-15 (NRSV)

This is what is called by theologians “The Noahic Covenant”—one of several agreements that God made with Israel—and by proxy all the world.

And here we see this strange imagery of the rainbow. “I have set my bow…” This word “bow” is the same Hebrew word as the bow of battle. To the original readers, the bow would have been a common sight in battle. It meant war and death.

But for God to “set his bow” meant that war was over, that the struggle was over. This is the sign of the rainbow in the clouds, turned away from us, a bow at rest.

That rest is what we remember when we see it. and it reminds us of all of life. As violent as the storm might be, the rainbow will be there—the power of the thunder and rain turns to beauty and color. That’s all that’s left standing.

The covenant reminds us that a devastation like a flood won’t destroy us again. God will not destroy us and start over; he will work with us and through us to accomplish redemption. He works through each storm in our lives to make beauty and light come through.

Instead of ending history, he works within it. And instead of starting over with humanity, he became one.

He set his bow in the sky. He set his covenant that he will always work with us and within us on our relationship with him. Let’s remember this promise when the storm comes.

I’m Greg Williams, Speaking of Life

In this season of Epiphany, we’ve seen the light of the world shining brighter, guiding us through the darkness. We’ve met the prince of peace, who brings calm to our turbulent lives.

With hearts aglow, we’ve embraced these truths. Our Savior, the embodiment of grace, has reached out to us with open arms to embrace all of humanity.

Today, we ascend to a metaphorical mountain. Picture it as a sacred place where heaven touches earth, a mountaintop of revelation. Here, in the presence of Jesus, we witness his radiant divinity.

Transfiguration Sunday marks the conclusion of Epiphany, transitioning us into a season of reflection and repentance, Easter Preparation. Our journey has unveiled the radiant character of God, seen in the love, grace, and compassion of Christ.

Just as the Transfiguration elevated Jesus on the mountaintop, it elevates our understanding. We see who we truly are in Christ. This profound revelation challenges us to embrace our divine identity.

As we stand at the precipice of this divine encounter, let us remember that our identity is woven into the very identity of Christ. We are called to radiate his love, grace, and compassion.

The Transfiguration is not an isolated event. It’s a continuous unveiling, a constant reminder of who Christ is and who we are in him. His glory transcends time and place.

Join us on this spiritual journey, where the light of the world continues to shine, and the transformative power of Christ’s radiant presence awaits.

Stay with us as we explore the significance of this moment, ready to embrace the glory of Christ that can change our lives forever.

Speaking of Life 3010 | Felt Not Seen
Heber Ticas

Work is a central part of our lives. I mean, we have to have an income to support ourselves and our families. We talk about “hard work,” and we’re suspicious of work that seems too easy. As human beings, the idea of work means putting forth effort, either mentally or physically, and having a tangible outcome. Some of the greatest works human beings have ever made are called “wonders of the world,” like the Taj Mahal in India or the pyramids in Egypt.

If we think about natural wonders in the world, those same people might say some of God’s greatest works are the Grand Canyon in the United States or Mount Everest in Nepal. Or perhaps the Great Barrier Reef in Australia or Victoria Falls in Africa. These are breathtaking natural wonders–clearly not made by man.

The manmade wonders I mentioned, like the Taj Mahal or the Egyptian pyramids, certainly are a visible outcome of hard work, but the effort of creating them came at the expense of human beings, usually slaves. God’s wonders and works, however, never exploit human beings and instead, show love and care for all beings. Further, his greatest works are felt in the heart and not seen.

One of the best places in the Bible to hear descriptions of God’s works is the book of Psalms. Let’s look at a few verses from Psalm 111:

Great are the works of the Lord; they are studied by all who delight in them. Full of honor and majesty is his work, and his righteousness endures forever. He has gained renown by his wonderful deeds; the Lord is gracious and merciful…. The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy. Psalms 111: 2-4, 7 (NRSV)

If we look closely at the descriptions the psalmist gives for God’s works, we see qualities of God’s heart: honor, majesty, graciousness, mercy, faithfulness, and justice. Not only are God’s works beautiful and majestic, but they also reflect his goodness and his love. In other words, they reflect who God is by revealing his heart.

When we consider the beauty and majesty of the Grand Canyon or Mount Everest, we know they were created by a loving God who is devoted to showing his great love and compassion for all people, for all creation. The next time you visit or see a picture of one of God’s wonders, allow your heart to dwell on the love, compassion, and faithfulness that brought those wonders into being. This is the same Creator who made you and me, the same Creator who became human to draw us into a loving relationship. The greatest works of God are felt in the heart, not seen.

As you witness beauty in the world God created for us, I hope you experience his love and compassion.

Mi nombre es Heber Ticas, Hablando de Vida.