Heat Wave, 2

Earth was a blob—formless, empty, and dark. But the Spirit of God was hovering over it, and then God spoke a simple, singular command: “Let there be light!” (Genesis 1:3).

And there was light. Day One.

Three days later, God created the sun with another power-packed decree: “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night.”

“And it was so. God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars.” (See Genesis 1.)

The sun that bakes the sandy desert and melts mountain snow was created with a word. God did not tell it where to settle. He did not expand on how, when, or where to shine. He didn’t explain the earth’s rotations around it. He didn’t instruct it to remain an exact distance so it would benefit earth and sustain life without burning up the rest of His creation.

God simply spoke—and the miraculous, enduring, rhythmic, life-giving elements of the sun were created. The heat wave began and, ever since it burst into the sky, we enjoy the sun’s benefits. If you question me, just ask Google!

The sun is essential for life on Earth, providing warmth, light, and energy… 
It drives photosynthesis in plants…
and influences weather patterns, ocean currents, and the water cycle… 
Sunlight is crucial for human health, aiding in vitamin D production,
improving mood, and potentially lowering blood pressure. 

In other words, the sun is a heat wave we cannot live without. The remarkable, unfathomable thought I cannot grasp is that every part of this gaseous hot ball—its photosphere, chromosphere, and corona, its core, radioactive and connective zones—were not separate creations but breathed into existence at God’s single command.

The awe of this robs me of words, so I’ll leave you with only one:

Selah—pause and calmly think about that.

Springtime in Jersey

I love the coming of spring and its promise of new life. What a wonder to behold!

The tiniest hint of green appeared on tree branches. So tiny, I wondered if my eyes deceived me. But then it happened—the green spread, and deepened, and intensified. Now, New Jersey is swathed in varying shades of green.

Forsythia and daffodils burst out in yellow, bringing spontaneous smiles to our faces. Crocuses and hyacinths complemented them with their pink and purple petals. Trees blossomed into bloom—dogwoods, magnolias, and flowering cherry.

I love the onset of fresh fruit and the promise of backyard barbecues.

I love packing away winter coats and walking out the door without thought of the cold.

I love opening the windows and allowing in fresh breezes.

I love to watch the seemingly synchronized arrival of birds at our feeders, each singing their unique song.

I love seeing people taking walks or out in their yards, especially the children.  

I love living in New Jersey where each season is distinctive.

I love that the seasons are ordained by God. We can do nothing to alter them, slow their arrival, or delay their passing.

I love seeing God’s fingerprints in nature, ever changing but displayed in patterns that never change.