05 February 2006

I Was Crying Over Rocks!









The girls and I have been listening to a playlist I compiled of various worship songs. We're studying the concept of Honor this semester, and what it means to honor God and honor others. I put together this playlist (with a lot of help from friends) as a way for us to honor God together as a family during our everyday routine. Sometimes we've just jammed out as we wash the dishes or drive around town, and sometimes we sit down together to listen, discuss, analyze and dream about the lyrics and music.

One day, the "assignment" was that each of us would pick out some of the words we heard in a given song and say what the words made us think about. We chose the medley, "Make a Joyful Noise/I Will Not Be Silent" sung by David Crowder on the Passion: Road to One Day album. I've enjoyed this song since the first time I heard it (it's got a funky, danceable beat), but this time the song spoke to me in a new way. The lines that struck me were "the flowers of the field are crying to be heard" and "every blade of grass will sing." As the girls and I were discussing the idea that when no one else will honor God the way he ought to be honored, Creation itself sings, calls and shouts it's praise to the Creator. I mentioned the verse that says the rocks will cry out.

... Which led me to think about the rocks in our backyard. I step over them, on them, and around them without any thought of their existence. The only time I concern myself with them is when the kids are throwing them or I trip over them. (I imagine I'll have a lot more to say about rocks this spring when we begin planting our garden!) But as I am ignoring their existence, they are about the business of honoring God.

Think of the vast array of rocks and gems in the world. Many are on display in the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum. (We took our grandparents there over Christmas.)
The variety represented in the Smithsonian is staggering, even the wide array of colors and shapes represented in just one species of rock. God created each and every one of those rocks with a different voice, a different tonal quality, a new color and hue, something unique about its strata than all the other rocks around it. EACH of those rocks is singing, calling and crying out it's praise to the Lord in it's own individual voice. The "voice" that was fashioned and formed by its Creator so that by that "voice" the Creator might derive pleasure and the glory due Him.

And I began to cry. In that moment I was astounded that God would see to it that every last microscopic corner of His creation was about the sole business of reflecting his glory back upon him. He looks at Creation and he sees himself. While the mirror is wobbly and cracked, the mirror does what a mirror is created to do. It shows God his own face. The rocks say, "God, you are good!" Creation was designed to cry out to Him.

And then I laughed because I realized was crying over ROCKS. Who's ever cried over ROCKS?!

But it's pretty cool that something as devoid of life as a rock can cause me to be so moved as to worship my Creator. I think that's exactly what God designed the rocks to do. And if I am too busy with my life to be inspired by the rocks, they'll go ahead and worship God in spite of me. He's got the issue of His glory covered- with or without my participation.

And the sun every morning cannot wait to shine
And the stars every evening are all standing by to light the sky
Give the rocks and the stones voices of their own
If we forget to sing praises to our King
!


- "My Offering", Woven & Spun, Nichole Nordeman

"All photos copyright 2006 by Andrew Alden, geology.about.com, reproduced under educational fair use."


3 Comments:

Blogger Mary DeMuth said...

very, very lovely my rocker friend. You go, worship girl!

1:14 PM  
Blogger Abby said...

I think I'm gonna stop blogging altogether. Not just because I can't compete, either. I mean...what's the point when I could just have my worship time by reading yours?

11:09 AM  
Blogger rhon said...

Abby! You have a blog? Where? Where? Do tell.

4:45 PM  

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