I Love Beauty

The audacious poetry of string theory

The ubiquitous emerald greenness of the Gulf of Mexico

The over powering gaze of an Afghan women caught unaware at work

The rich mahogany staircase of a mid-Victorian home

The sensual warmth of patchouli oil in a San Francisco head shop

The wafting message of Italian bake goods on the west side Chicago restaurant

The clang clanging of cow bells on the edge of the Swiss Alps

The abandoned joy of the tango meringue and salsa in a west side Chicago flat

The strange cacophony of Jewish men’s prayers being offered up at the Wailing Wall

The psychedelic colors of an exotic deep sea fish and all his cousins at the Shedd Aquarium

The drip of fresh musk melon down my chin

The guffaws of old men gathered for breakfast at Millers Diner in Washington Courthouse Ohio

The eternal view of heaven in a child’s eyes

The wholeness of being in time and space, knowing and living it during corporate worship

The gaze of respect I see in the face of a white teenager during the concert of B. B. King

The embrace of an old friend brought back in to fellowship

I love creation

I love the hologram the Father calls creation

The entire whole

I love it all

I cry for its entire restoration

I weep for a clearer glimpse of its edenic roots

But through the reflection of the beauatific vision

I see the actual face of God

I see that it is good

He is good

He is present

He is with us.

Can you see Him? Can you stand inside that idea? Rest there for awhile.

This is the beginning of beauty. It is His handiwork. His imagination is our inheritance. He is the imagining power of all creation. Could God actually be imagination itself? Close to God, we can imagine along with Him. We experience this beauty consciously. We can see the shear wonder of an incoming hurricane even though we know its powerful danger. Animals flee for survival. We too flee but can look over our shoulder and ponder the magnificence of the power. The textured beauty of the darkened clouds rushing on the horizon. Likewise we can see beauty even in the despair. Even in the falleness, not just small remnants but large expressions of His goodness call out. (Shindler’s List)) Are we listening? Are tasting? Are we looking?