The heavens are telling the glory of God;
and the firmament* proclaims his handiwork.
2 Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night declares knowledge.
3 There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
4 yet their voice* goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world. Psalm 19
I'm writing a sermon on prayer for this Sunday which invites us into openness and contemplation rather than just yakking at God, which is what we Protestants tend to lean toward.
We really don't trust our senses when it comes to prayer. It's unfortunate because we live in a country of extraordinary beauty and sensory delight. One of my most holy moments in recent memory was the cycle home from Bridge St.UC on Tuesday afternoon. While my early morning cycle was lovely and calm, in the afternoon the wind was stirring up the Bay of Quinte and the colourful leaves of Autumn rustled and roared. God was there in the stiff breeze in a way that lifted my spirit.
I saw the illustration above and the encouragement below on Twitter and it spoke to me.
“Fall is a feast for the physical senses, the perfect opportunity to step out of our thoughts and into the body, connecting with the world around us.” — Andy Puddicombe, co-founder of the meditation app Headspace.
and the firmament* proclaims his handiwork.
2 Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night declares knowledge.
3 There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
4 yet their voice* goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world. Psalm 19
I'm writing a sermon on prayer for this Sunday which invites us into openness and contemplation rather than just yakking at God, which is what we Protestants tend to lean toward.
We really don't trust our senses when it comes to prayer. It's unfortunate because we live in a country of extraordinary beauty and sensory delight. One of my most holy moments in recent memory was the cycle home from Bridge St.UC on Tuesday afternoon. While my early morning cycle was lovely and calm, in the afternoon the wind was stirring up the Bay of Quinte and the colourful leaves of Autumn rustled and roared. God was there in the stiff breeze in a way that lifted my spirit.
I saw the illustration above and the encouragement below on Twitter and it spoke to me.
“Fall is a feast for the physical senses, the perfect opportunity to step out of our thoughts and into the body, connecting with the world around us.” — Andy Puddicombe, co-founder of the meditation app Headspace.
Step outside on a fall day.The rain today and tomorrow may bring down many leaves, but this is a great encouragement to contemplate and appreciated the glory of God.
Notice the quality of the light.
Feel the air against your skin, cooler than it was just a few weeks ago.
Observe the sunlight filtering through the trees.
Notice the play of the shadows.
Listen to the sounds of rustling leaves.
Inhale the smell of an autumn day.
Even my daily drive on the wretched 401 can bring joy, as I notice the bright orange and red leaves on the few trees that are left on my commute.
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