No Restrictions. No Expiration Date.

 

During the years of World War 2, Corrie ten Boom and her family hid about 800 Jewish people in their home. They were imprisoned for their resistance activities. Only Corrie survived.  After the war, this elderly Dutch watchmaker faithfully testified about God and her experience as a concentration camp survivor.

In an old wobbly broadcast I found on YouTube, Corrie then in her 80s spoke about meeting an older gentleman who came to one of her talks, three decades after the war, having recognized the name ten Boom. 

 “I had a teacher named ten Boom when I was seven.  Was that you?”  he asked her.

“No,” she replied.  “That was my older sister.”   

“Well, I was in her class,” the white-haired man said.

And suddenly Corrie remembered when she was about twelve or thirteen, her older sister Betsie taught school in their hometown of Haarlem in the Netherlands.  Betsie came home at night, and asked her family to pray for her class of seven and eight year old boys and girls, not for better behavior or doing their schoolwork, but for their spiritual well-being.  And now, seventy years later, here was one of those little boys with all those prayers from so long ago still sticking to him.  God was still drawing that seven-year-old boy to Himself.

We all-too-often shortchange the act of praying.  Prayer is not limited to immediate requests nor to what we consider timely answers. Once committed to prayer, God’s responses continue to pour in.

Praying creates a space, not just for God to work, but for us to understand that He is unfolding His purposes.  And when we come before Him to pray, we cannot even number His wonders in unlikely places and unexpected ways, even in matters we cannot yet see -- maybe especially in what we cannot yet see. We have no idea what sticks – or to whom. 

My husband often uses a product called tenacious tape to repair damaged outdoor gear.  That strong adhesive sticks and adheres to basically about anything, grasping tightly, holding the rips and wounds together, avoiding further damage, and not readily relinquishing its grip.  What if we prayed like that?

Tenacious prayer does not stubbornly insist on its own way -- telling God how and when to answer -- adhering not to circumstances but aligning our hearts to His.  Sticky prayers change us in the very process of praying.  Our hearts are not stuck on a certain outcome or answer.  But realizing  the Almighty has a firm hold on us, far beyond our lifetimes, impacting even those yet unborn who come after us.  God is not about to let go.  Our prayers are not tenacious.  But God is.

Tenacity is an outward form of God's faithfulness.

Seventy years had passed, prayers long forgotten, but in that very moment, Corrie remembered holding hands with her family, praying nightly for children they mostly didn't know.  And now, an answer to her family's prayers was standing in front of her, in flesh and blood.  On the surface, it appeared that it took a long time for him to get there.  But not really. Prayer comes with no restrictions and no expiration date.  God is right on time.  He always is, even when we don't realize it.  He is not the one who forgets.

Would we pray differently if we knew our prayers would be yet reverberating seventy years from now, or even lingering long after we have forgotten what we prayed about?   It is not that those prayers have gone unanswered, but are not yet completed.

The other day while running in the woods, I was visually captured by the fresh green of spring all around me.  Many bushes along the path were covered in tightly-wrapped buds, standing straight and upright at attention, as if waiting for a signal to bloom.  It was not time yet.  Like so many prayers, their beauty and fragrance were ready and waiting to burst forth.  But not just yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Almighty unfolds His wonders, unrestricted by our meager vocabulary, not limited by time, but set into motion for all eternity, backwards and forwards, upside down and right-side up, immensely beyond our understanding, vision, or lifetimes.   

In prayer, God invites us into His marvelous, creative and sovereign work.  We adhere our prayers to His will --that which we comprehend and that which we cannot.  He does the heavy-lifting.  God completes our prayers in unexpected ways.  God glues together the prayers of the saints – even yours and mine—over the scope of all eternity.

With what are we coming before Him today-- seventy years in the making?

But for You, O LORD, do I wait;  

it is You, O Lord my God, who will answer.  

                               Psalm 38. 15

When Being Comfortable Is Not The Point

 

The big state testing starts today at the elementary school.  For most kids, it is no big deal.  For teachers, mostly just an annoyance and disruption in actually getting to teach these kids. 

But for this little grandson missing his two front teeth, it is like facing Goliath empty-handed and alone.  He is overwhelmed before he even enters the room.  So many pages of questions stare him in the face.  So little time.  Hurry, hurry.

What if I don’t know the answer?  What if I don’t finish in time?  For him, it is not about being the best.  He always does his best.  But what if that is not enough?  The big what-ifs cast huge scary shadows.  What if he’s last?  What if he’s the only one left?  Hurry, hurry.  And that absolutely paralyzes him, like the Israelites staring the hordes of Assyrians rushing towards them in full battle gear.  Run for your life, and you discover your shoe laces are tied together.

I want to tell him that this test does not define him.  Someday, he won’t even remember this.  But for him to know that God loves him and has amazing plans for his life to bring Him glory.  And nothing will stop that.

I want him to hear the Almighty’s words:

Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.  Joshua 1. 9

 “Do not fear.  I am with you.”  God is faithful.  Even today.  Even in this.

All I can do is pray for him today.  And to let him know-- no matter what --that nothing can separate him from the love of Jesus.  God does not just show up.  God is bringing him through.

As a second grader, may he learn that, and know that, and never forget that. 

But what are we facing today?  Even us big kids face dilemmas and hard stuff in all kinds of monster costumes. We cry out in our prayers, “God, I can’t do this.” 

And He replies, “Good.  Because I can.  Lean on Me.”  God pours His strength all over it.  We walk with Him one step at a time.  We are not alone. He has a strong hold on us.

Fear minimizes our eyesight and confuses our hearts.

Recently I was faced with a daunting situation.  I prayed, “God, I am just not comfortable or at peace about this.” 

And instead of a soothing empty answer, I felt like God was saying, “I don’t want you to feel comfortable or competent in this.”  Because if we are comfortable, we don’t rely on Him.  We pray less.  We don’t even acknowledge His presence, and we take the credit.  God did not give me a soothing answer.  He gave me His strength. 

God always wants something more for us than we see at the moment.  And something very different than our feeble ideas we contrive without coming before Him.

When we respond to God, He leads us in ways and in places we have not been before.  Not to the “right answer” but to Him

When we are following the Lord, there will almost always come a point of wondering if we made a wrong turn, or we don’t know the answers, or not finishing in time.  That’s when trusting God comes in.  That’s when we know we are not on our own.  Nor ever meant to be. 

For we are powerless

against this great horde

     that is coming against us.

We do not know what to do,

but our eyes are on You.

            2 Chronicles 20. 12

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

The end of the day has finally come.  Work has ceased or stacked up, waiting for tomorrow.

But then, we wonder why we can't get to sleep -- or wake up in the night as if an incessant alarm arouses us.  Our problem is getting into bed without closing out the day.  

Our thoughts still racing down the interstate highway.  And we realize that we have come to bed fully clothed, hiking boots tied on tight, carrying our cares in an enormous backpack with us.  And there is not any space in bed or for our hearts to rest at all.   Like loud preschoolers, Anxiety and her annoying brother Worry clamor around the edges of our mattress, looking for us to stir. "She's awake!" they shout, and climb into bed with us.

We obviously haven't gotten ready for bed.  We've brought everything with us.  Not much room for sleep.

We need to lay all these things down first. And of course, no better place than at the feet of Jesus.

At night, as a little girl, I remember saying nightly prayers.  Yes, it was a habit, often accompanied by a little Sunday School song.  But praying that way established a pattern for sleep and verbally recognized the Almighty with me, as if He were sitting silently by my little bed.  My grandmother and I knelt on the floor, prayed our little prayers, and I slipped into bed as she slipped out of the room, covered by His protection and peace.  It then was so easy to trust Him when I could hear mom and dad and my grandmother still moving around downstairs.  And is it not still easy to trust Him, knowing that He is still moving and working and singing over us?

We can sleep because God does not.  He is on watch.  Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.  Psalm 121. 4

Do we slip off to bed without even saying goodnight to God?  Have we left Him waiting, after seeking His help all the day?  Did we even say thank You?  It was a hard day, or a great day, but He was with us.  And at night, He still is.

As a very little girl, I was terrified by a very real lion crouching under my bed, a furry epitome of fear.  That ferocious beast was ready to pounce at my slightest movement.  

But what if I had thought instead of another powerful lion -- the Lion of Judah-- right there awake and protecting me?  And that would be Jesus, strong and kind.

In its nightly compline, first published in 1549, The Book of Common Prayer gives us a refreshing vocabulary to recite and repeat:  Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night; for the love of thy only Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.

And God says to us, "All you have to do is ask. I'm already here." 

When I wake in the night, it is often the things undone that hover over me.  Not that I haven't done enough, but perhaps instead, not come before God with this chaos, or awkward burdens, or --gasp-- wrongdoing.  

Things I needed to talk out with God in the daylight often come knocking at night.

In peace I will both lie down and sleep;

for You alone, O LORD,

make me dwell in safety.  

                             Psalm 4.8

It is a peace that only God can provide, both within and without.

So it is not just that I will rest and sleep, not just be blessed physically, but refreshed and strengthened spiritually to be a blessing to others, bring something different into the new day, even in an old familiar situation, no matter what God unfolds in the course of the day.

I lay down and slept.  I woke again,

       for the LORD sustained me.

I will not be afraid of many thousands of people

    who have set themselves against me all around.

                              Psalm 3. 5-6

And sometimes it takes us praying it through, talking it out with God, to realize our fears are just imagined -- really big shadows that dissolve in the light.  Or how to approach and navigate them, even if they are real. "Do not be afraid.  I am with you."

This blog Nightlytea was originally named after the time when our two younger daughters were in high school.  After cross country practice, showers, supper, and homework, a little pocket of time would emerge, a gap between school subjects, or a need for a break.  We would wander into the kitchen, and over a cup of nightly tea, we would discuss the day, what was hard, what was good, and how we saw God redeem what often appeared as a series of unfortunate events.

What if we said good night to God?  What if we let Him tuck us in?  What would we say to Him at the closing of the day? How would praying impact our rest?  And how would that change how we approach tomorrow? 

Then Jacob awoke from his sleep and said,
"Surely the LORD is in this place, and I did not know it."

                       Genesis 28. 16

 

The Real Proof of Easter

As an atheistic attorney and legal affairs reporter for the Chicago Tribune, journalist Lee Strobel set out to investigate the evidence for Christ, if any was to be found.  What was the big deal about this man who claimed to be God?

Layer upon layer, Strobel dug into existing documents and interviewed experts about the proof of Christ's life to see if the evidence held up.  In his engaging 1998 book The Case for Christ: A Journalist's Personal Investigation of the Evidence for Jesus, he analyzes the words of eyewitnesses, the psychological character of this ancient man, fingerprints, medical evidence, and even research supporting the inconceivable resurrection of Jesus.  As in his day job as an investigative journalist, he followed every clue and lead.

Strobel found Jesus was no ordinary man.  

What he discovered surprised him. 

Strobel found there was always something more, not just a trail of facts and persuasions, but having to confront the nagging question:  What do I do with this?  It was not, after all, a matter of accepting the evidence of an historic figure, but accepting the forgiveness and love of Jesus.   And in the end of his investigation, he realized it did not rest on arguments or what proof is on the table, but the one question that each one of us must answer: And who do you say that I am? Matthew 16. 15 

As another atheist-turned-believer C. S. Lewis states in his classic book Mere Christianity:  "But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher.  He has not left that open to us.  He did not intend to." 

Then again, the question is not what we do with Jesus.  But what He does in us.    

Because when it comes down to it, we are standing face to face with Him.  The profound difference is not what we know or don't know about God, but that we know Him and are known by Him.  The door is open, the threshold over which new life comes into being.  And He invites us in.

And even then, that was not the end of the story.  Indeed, so what?  What difference could Jesus make? What emerged was not the end of Strobel's life as he knew it, but a radical beginning and upheaval that he did not fully understand or see coming.

The very real evidence of the Resurrection and its power became obvious to everyone around this reporter. 

In the final chapter of his book, Strobel stated the life-changing evidence: 

"In fact, so radical was the difference in my life that a few months after I became a follower of Jesus, our five-year-old daughter Alison went up to my wife and said, "Mommy, I want God to do for me what He's done for Daddy."  

"Here was a little girl who had only known a father who was profane, angry, verbally harsh, and all too often absent.  And even though she had never interviewed a scholar, never analyzed the data, never investigated historical evidence, she had seen up close the influence that Jesus can have on one person's life.  In effect, she was saying, "If this is what God does to a human being, that's what I want for me."

The real proof of Easter is the change in our lives.  We are loved.  We are forgiven.  And we are released from our own selfishness to love and forgive others.  Jesus has come not just to walk with us through this broken world, but to live in our hearts.  For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.  John 3. 17 

May others -- whether strangers or our own family-- see the present-tense difference Jesus is making in our lives.  Others are constantly watching us, not to see if we are perfect or what we do when life is not, but to know if this God of ours is real.

The case for Christ is not closed, but only yet begun.  His life for ours, our life in Him.  Nothing can ever be the same.  The boulder is moved.  And that would be our hearts.

And that is the real proof of Easter.  

 

What happens along the way

When one of our daughters was a sophomore in high school, we had just moved to a new location.  On her first day as the new girl at cross country practice, the coach asked each of the runners to jot down their goals for the season.  Some focused on surviving the daily workouts.  Others were concerned about injuries. Our daughter wrote down, "Go to state."  The coach chuckled when he saw it.  "In the history of our school, the girls' cross country team has never qualified for the state competition," he replied as if to say, "totally unrealistic"

But something happened along the way...

That "totally unrealistic" goal of our daughter's changed what she did.  She trained smarter.  She trained harder.  She did her best.  And although she may not have won first place in a meet, she watched carefully those who were.  What did they do differently in practice?  What did they do differently in a race?

The goal itself put her on a different course and mindset.  

But while heading for what was considered unrealistic, something else happened along the way.   It impacted everyone else on the team.  This diverse group of girls of all abilities began to pull together.  They cheered for each other.  They had pasta parties.  They made headbands and t-shirts.  They celebrated Saturday meets by wearing their warmups to class on Fridays.  They decorated lockers and cars and sent each other encouraging notes.  They became a team.

Against the odds, they won their district meet and advanced to the regional meet.  Four teams would be chosen at regionals to go to the state competition.  In cross country, the team that wins is not determined by the first runner across the line, but often by the last.  The places of the top five runners on the team are added up.

On that particular October day, under a sky so blue, the first three winning teams were predictable and were announced one after the other. And then, there was a brief pause. "The final team to go to state is ....." the announcer drew out the syllables.  Sssssssss...It could be any number of schools there that started with the letter S.  It was going to be that close.  "Sycamore," he said at last.

The girls on my daughter's team screamed. They did it.  They were going to state.  Tears flowed.  And after all these many years, I can still see the coach in the team tent, down on his knees.

Be unrealistic this year.  Work toward it.  And pray even more.

We never can know what will happen along the way.
But God does.  

It's not about getting our way or a singular answer to prayer, but all about God's faithfulness in the long run.  He may take us to that specific place.  He may change us on the way there. He may place something entirely unexpected on our path. He may redirect our affections. He may radically change our story.  Or our hearts.
But God always responds.

What happens along the way is a realization of His faithfulness.

Therefore I say unto you,
"All things whatsoever you pray
                        and ask for,
believe that you have received them,
and you shall have them." 

                         Mark 11.24

In his classic book With Christ in the School of Prayer, author Andrew Murray states:
"God forbid that we should try and bring down His ALL THINGS to the level of what we think possible.  Let us now simply take Christ's 'WHATEVER' as the measure and the hope of our faith:  it is a seed-word which, if taken just as He gives it, and kept in the heart, will unfold itself and strike root, fill our life with its fullness, and bring forth fruit abundantly."

We have no idea what God will unfold along the way.
That's His specialty.

St. Patrick's Shield

One scene in the classic Disney cartoon version of Robin Hood showed a cemetery surrounding Friar Tuck's church.  While watching the film, our then-four-year-old granddaughter asked, "Why are all those rocks there?"

I realized that she was referring to the gravestones, an unfamiliar sight for any church built in the past fifty years.  I hesitated for a moment as I formulated my answer.

"Those are the faithful ones," I replied.  "The church is surrounded by God's faithful people."

 A few days later I said something about celebrating St. Patrick's Day.  "Who's dat?" asked our small grandson.

And I realized it is not that the stories of the faithful are few and far between, but remain untold.  These are real people.  Look how God used these ordinary faithful people in extraordinary ways.  This is what being used by God looks like.

Tell these stories of God's faithfulness to your children and grandchildren that they may not fade into dust.

I will open my mouth in a parable;
I will utter dark sayings from of old,
things that we have heard and known,
that our fathers have told us.
We will not hide them from their children,
but tell to the coming generation
the glorious deeds of the LORD,
                     and His might,
and the wonders which He has wrought.
                               Psalm 78. 2-4

Today is St. Patrick's Day, and while the rivers will be running green in Chicago, the true story of Patrick stands in sharp contrast to what is typically celebrated on this holiday.  The story of Patrick is always a profound reminder to me of what God can do through His faithful ones.  He lived from 387 to 461 AD.  Patrick did not flee from the barbarians, but allowed God's grace to transform a culture and literally change the world. 

We celebrate today not green beer and leprechauns, but one man’s radical obedience to God, and through whom God used to change the course of history.

This humble ordinary man knew that he did not have super powers but stood beneath a shield.  Centuries ago, he left behind a prayer that revealed that his strength was not his own, but in God.  

Let the words of St. Patrick's ancient text surround and challenge you on this holy-day.  May we bind ourselves to Christ and carry the same shield.

I bind unto myself today
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One,
      and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,
By power of faith,
      Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan River;
His death on the cross
       for my salvation.
His bursting from the spiced tomb;
His riding up the heav'nly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God
            to hold and lead,
His eye to watch,
            His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need;
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide,
             His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heav'nly host to be my guard.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death-wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poison'd shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the name,
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word.
Praise to the Lord of my salvation:
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

 

The Grand Invasion

Ta-da!  Spring is invading from the ground up with a million shades of fresh green, not all at once lest we don't appreciate the resurrection of the land, or lest we forget how despairing the winter we just experienced.

Spring is the visible manifestation of God's promise to us, "Behold, I make all things new." (Revelation 21. 5)  We are awed by this glimpse of what hope looks like.   Winter does not last forever.  We recognize deep inside that this restoration is what God has been bringing into our lives all along, even through the frigid darkness of winter.

Yet God need not transform the entire landscape at once for us to have hope.   He does it one tiny glimpse at a time, a wildflower in the gravel at the side of the road, a glimmer that catches our eyes, a touch of green, a burst of color, or the celebration of a single tree in the forest. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But we don't even need those visible reminders.  We have His word on that.  He hears my voice.  He redeems my soul in safety from the battle that I wage... Psalm 55. 18  Everyone struggles with something.  God brings His light to the shadows.  He brings spring to our winters.

God unveils full color where we only saw dismal shades of black and white.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An arborist once told me that it is the slow soak of the winter snow and rain that nourishes the trees and strengthens them.  Winter is actually the life-giving season.  Winter is designed for the deepening of roots.  Even our own souls becoming stronger in trusting Him.

Darkness is pushed back to reveal the hope that has sustained us all through the bitter winter, even in a barren and abandoned landscape, which turns out not so bleak at all.

 The silence of the snow is not His absence, but a deeper dimension of His Presence, His whisper to us, "Come deeper with Me,"  the passage from one season to the next.  It is not the end of the world after all.  Something new bursts forth, that which only God can do.

And He starts with the tiniest wildflowers, the evidence of His majesty.

Remember not the former things,
nor consider the things of old.
Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth,
      do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
      and rivers in the desert.
The wild beasts will honor me,
the wolves and the ostriches;
for I give water in the wilderness,
     rivers in the desert,
to give drink to My chosen people,
the people whom I formed for Myself
that they might declare My praise.

                         Isaiah 43. 18-21

The Ripening of Prayer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last week, I was walking past some dead-looking garden beds, barren and desolate, covered in old leaves crumbled by the harshness of winter.  Those patches of ground appeared far from redeeming.  But then I noticed tiny little labels, not just wishes for what the gardener wants to come forth, not just where seeds were planted, but signs of hope, seeing beyond what it looks like now, and grasping what is yet to emerge.  Something is growing there.  We just cannot see it yet. And often it surprises us what comes out of our efforts, even in what we so carefully label, even in what we don't realize we have planted..

Yesterday I ran through what appeared the deadness of trees and the ravages of winter.   But I could not outrun what was happening there in that wilderness.  Moment by moment, the landscape was changing, like a tsunami wave of green. Spring is invading.  And suddenly, before my eyes, the bleakness is being redeemed.

Behold I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?  I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.  Isaiah 43. 19

This beauty was maturing, waiting just below the surface, ready to burst forth in celebration.  We are so unaware of what God is up to.  That which God is bringing forth is already in motion.

We pray and see nothing.  But nothing is just our myopic vision in it. And God says, "Now watch this."

Whereas we were anxious for this renewal back in cold January, the results are just not the same when we try to hurry God up.  God says, "Wait."  We tap our feet.  We need not think of it as waiting.  There is neither too early nor too late in God's Kingdom.  He is the Creator of time.  He is not restricted by it.

When we pray, we bring our concerns, joys, worries, and wonders before the Lord.  Let those things sit and absorb.  They are not lying fallow in impossible rock-hard soil.  God brings all things into being in His time.  It is not that God is late, too busy, or flagrantly ignoring us.  We are the ones not ready yet.  The situation may not have ripened.  Our hearts may have not matured enough yet.

When God responds, "Wait on Me," there are profound, life-changing reasons for it. And it is not all about us.

I felt an urgency to write this blog today, because even by tomorrow, even by this afternoon, even by the time you might read this, the world will look so different.  The landscape is unfolding by the minute every day.  The seasons are constantly changing.  And so are our seasons.  How much we miss, a billion details of God's goodness of which we are oblivious.

Our long-awaited spring is not coming.  It is already here.  Next is already in motion, right around the corner and right under our very feet.  All through winter, God was preparing His creation for the grand re-opening, nurturing roots far below our radar.  And all through what has appeared as a black and white ordinary time in our lives, God is preparing, nurturing and strengthening us for what is and what is to come. His goodness is ripening all over us.

And we realize God does not just toss our prayers aside, or ignore our pleas, or forget our words.  He does not just hear our prayers.  God listens. And He acts.  Although it may feel like we never see an outcome, God is still working on it.  His timing is not our own. It is not for us to make sense of it, nor to see the end wrapped up with a bow, but perhaps gradually grasp the next step in God’s grander narrative.  

In his deeply thoughtful book The Sound of Life’s Unspeakable Beauty, author and German luthier Martin Schleske writes about the character and response of the Almighty: 

“We need a greater respect for God and God’s timing to withstand the danger of asking only about the immediate usefulness of things and allowing nothing to ripen and mature.”

God redeems each situation, difficulty, and patches of hard ground, in extraordinary and supernatural ways we don’t always realize, but …the seed sprouts and grows, we know not how.  Mark 4. 27

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And suddenly, we catch a glimpse of His wonders.

Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!  Isaiah 6. 3