Reading the Goodness Everywhere

"Then God surveyed everything He had made, savoring its beauty and appreciating its goodness."—Genesis 1:31, Voice

Living in a small town means you get some privileges you don't get by living elsewhere. Like being able to stand in the middle of Main Street hill on a Saturday morning to take a photo and not get run over...because there were no cars in sight to do the dirty deed. Decades of walks down that hill (on the safer sidewalk) inevitably trigger flashbacks to numerous mostly-wonderful moments, most of them from being a kid in a great public school further up the hill. So much of that goodness happened after the last bell, when several hundred like-minded caged animals were let loose at once into the great outdoors.

Some of us walked home down that hill. Some of us walked with friends to go play in their yard until dark. In later years, a lot of us walked down Main Street for Friday night dances at the Town House following a home basketball game. And in both grade and high school, a lot of us wound up at the library at the bottom of the hill, to study, to bone up on the skill of whispering, and to participate in "story hour."

Through that experience, many of us grew to like or at least appreciate books, and great stories, and exciting adventures told in carefully crafted print. The library experience was even a trigger to make the most of a scary experience, like hiding under the covers with a flashlight during a wicked thunderstorm at night, and reading a book that was a bit sunnier in its content. In time, those walks to the library also proved pivotal for a journalism career, where wise men and women kept saying, "if you want to be a good writer, read good writers." 

But the library never tried to make me become a recluse book worm. And even if it had tried, it would have failed. Because along with many of my friends, whether we were in fourth grade or high school sophomores, we'd much rather be outside, away from the confinement of classrooms and hallways and lunchrooms...and later, the office. Or, as it says in one of our small town stores: "Better to be lost in the woods than in a maze of cubicles. Let's get outside."

It is good to know that you can find God, or more accurately, a rich reflection of Him, in both settings. A twist of a phrase, or just a sentence or two from a book of hundreds of pages can help magnify some aspect of God's awesomeness that you've been unable to express. You write it down, and carry it with you on the inside for days to come. It stirs your faith and encourages your next step in the Journey. But then there is also this, penned by St. Augustine some 300 years after the birth of Christ but resounding with clarity even now...

"Some people, in order to discover God, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things. Look above you! Look below you! Note it. Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead He set before your eyes the things that He had made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that? Why, heaven and earth shout to you: 'God made me!'"

Those childhood memories have proven prophetic. When you get outdoors, you get the best of both worlds: you get to "read," in all that you see around you, some greater glimpse of the goodness of God. Let the list begin and never end: God, You are....

Beautiful

Huge

Magnificent

Always active with every breeze

My rest and stillness seen in every starlit night

One who is supremely attentive to every detail of every created thing

Provider of all I need

The true Promise of hope and resurrection seen in each spring

The One source of new and abundant life seen in each summer

Lover of each unique thing (and person) You have made, seen in the endless colors of fall

Present and good, 24/7, even through every winter season of my life

And perhaps especially this reassurance amidst the battles...

"Why, heaven and earth shout to you:

'God made you beautiful, too, and announced the day you were born, 'It is good...I have loved you with an everlasting love.'"

"So I will sing of all You've done

I'll remember how far You've carried me

From beginning until the end

You are faithful, faithful to the end."

(from "Faithful to the End," Bethel Music)