Oh God, who can paint on an infinite nothing?
Has ever a man brushed his thought on the air?
Who on this earth can arrange the vast heavens?
Or shift nebulosity with naught but a stare?
Who can design, from the seed its fulfillment?
Man can do nothing but what you allot
The fruit of the field, of forest and garden
Blooms by the measure of Creator’s thought
Who teaches the bud of flower to open?
Or tells the tree its season to leaf?
Has ever a man plucked the rain from the heavens?
Or ordered the wind’s velocity to cease?
How fearful the greatness of our dependence
But for a God who loves us so much
That not one pebble escapes His vigilance
Hope and forgiveness exudes every touch
…and He who arranges the colors of heaven
Or stuns man’s babble to quieted awe
Seeks ultimately, intimately, the best for His children
For in Heaven and earth there is none like God
© Janet Martin
No one is like you, O LORD; you are great, and your name is mighty in power. Jer. 10:6
We gathered there...some on the bluff, others down on the beach
each with our own version of 'watching the sun set...'
We gathered there...some on the bluff, others down on the beach
each with our own version of 'watching the sun set...'
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