From My Nature Journal: “So Will I (100 Billion X)”

(NOTE, June 29, 2021: As we continue to exit pandemic mode these days, I am sensing the leading to repost a piece I shared last year in March at the pandemic’s outset. I feel it is almost a ‘checkup,’ an assessment of sorts, to see if the things I wrote then remain true now that we have seemingly endured the worst that COVID-19 could do. Its losses were many, of course, and we mourn every one of them, but we are finally able to more fully assess our losses and move forward. One caveat, however: at the time I wrote it, we were in a very unique Lent and pre-Easter season. Though that is not the case now in June of 2021, the Lenten framing continues to have special meaning to me.)

It has been quite some time since I’ve written a post about a nature song. Nature songs? Yes, there are many, old and new, songs that include beautiful or poetic references to the glory of God shown in God’s creation. And since both nature and music are two of my most oft-traveled spiritual pathways, I enjoy it very much when these two paths converge. I’ve written not infrequently along these lines, and they’re some of my favorite posts; check out the index tab called “The Music” -- above if you’re on your computer, or on the pull-down menu if on your phone. 

But I recently came across another lovely song along these lines. It is not new as contemporary songs go, but it was new to me, and eventually I’ll share a couple links to it, one that includes fantastic nature photography, always enjoyable as I listen to nature music, and another a rendition done so well by a young singer in a church. The song is titled “So Will I (100 Billion X),” and proceeds generally along the line that if all of nature sings God’s praise, who are we to hold back from giving God ours?

Now, before I continue, I need to acknowledge the ‘nature’ of our circumstances during these days of physical distancing due to the coronavirus (March, 2020). God’s creation is amazing, and, yes, the virus is part of that natural world system God has created. The virus, along with earthquakes, tornados, hurricanes and the like, are part of the attributed set of so-called ‘acts of God,’ trials we endure on this created celestial orb we call Earth, that hit us randomly and often hit us hard. We’re taking a hard hit right now. These trials are not an indication, as some think, of the lack of God’s care or love for us, but a sign of creation’s (and God’s) dynamic nature. And since all who regularly read this blog understand the important place the natural world plays in our spiritual pursuits, and in the healing of our physical, emotional and spiritual infirmities, isn’t it good of God to provide the beauty and magnificence of nature to be a healing balm for us, even if at the same time something strikes us from the dynamism of that natural world? Nature can hurt, yes, but nature far more often can heal. So it is no wonder that government officials are even urging us, while we physically distance, to be sure to get outside and let nature do its healing work. I urge my readers all the time to do the same. Get outside, and let God speak to you and heal you through his creative majesty.

Nature can hurt, yes, but nature

far more often can heal.

This is one of my motivations in sharing this post at this time. But there’s also a second. 

It is still Lent, in case the virus has caused anyone to forget. The song also has a powerful message of the love of Christ, shown in his passion upon ‘a hill he created,’ a love embraced by many who have responded to God’s invitation. 

So this brings me back to my intent today, sharing (among other things) the nature song, “So Will I.” Published in 2017 by Hillsong United, the creators of so many great praise songs, I am glad to have finally come across it. Here are its lyrics, along with the two recordings I said I’d attach: here and here. It’s not short, so queue it up and hang with it.

God of creation, there at the start before the beginning of time:

With no point of reference You spoke to the dark and fleshed out the wonder of light.

And as You speak, a hundred billion galaxies are born.

In the vapor of Your breath the planets form.

If the stars were made to worship so will I.

I can see Your heart in everything You've made,

Every burning star a signal fire of grace,

If creation sings Your praises so will I.

God of Your promise, You don't speak in vain, no syllable empty or void

For once You have spoken, all nature and science follow the sound of Your voice.

And as You speak a hundred billion creatures catch Your breath,

Evolving in pursuit of what You said.

If it all reveals Your nature so will I.

I can see Your heart in everything You say,

Every painted sky a canvas of Your grace.

If creation still obeys You so will I.

If the stars were made to worship so will I.

If the mountains bow in reverence so will I.

If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I.

For if everything exists to lift You high, so will I.

If the wind goes where You send it, so will I.

If the rocks cry out in silence, so will I.

If the sum of all our praises still falls shy,

Then we'll sing again a hundred billion times.

God of salvation, You chased down my heart through all of my failure and pride.

On a hill You created, the Light of the world abandoned in darkness to die.

And as You speak a hundred billion failures disappear

Where You lost Your life so I could find it here.

If You left the grave behind You so will I.

I can see Your heart in everything You've done,

Every part designed in a work of art called love;

If You gladly chose surrender so will I.

I can see Your heart a billion different ways,

Every precious one a child You died to save.

If You gave Your life to love them so will I,

Like You would again a hundred billion times.

But what measure could amount to Your desire?

You're the One who never leaves the one behind.

This is how Hillsong describes their song: it’s “… about God as an artisan… God as an artist working his masterpiece, a work of art called “love.” And it began with creation and goes through the whole story where it was finished at the cross. And now it continues to be rebirthed and restored in and through us here and now. The whole picture is response. If the stars were made to worship so will I… And the more we thought about it, there were endless metaphors and pictures and things that came back to this response. And maybe nothing better than if you laid your life down, if you gladly chose surrender, so will I. And if you left the grave behind you so will I. To me that’s everything, the entire story of why we’re here and our purpose and what it means to follow Jesus and live for him.” It’s a powerful song proclaiming a powerful and timeless truth.

Besides, if the world ever needed an Easter, and to know what Easter stands for, perhaps that time is now.

(NOTE, June 29, 2021: Yes, it’s still true.)

~~ RGM, Originally Shared March 31, 2020

From My Nature Journal: Respite

(I wrote a month ago the blogpost that follows, intending to publish it later that same week. But then the Minneapolis protests and riots broke out, and it seemed to me I needed to write something else that would address the issue of lament and honor the memory of George Floyd. See that post here. My intended subject for last month, however, was respite, and the need for respite is just as pertinent for us all now as then, perhaps more so...)

Respite. What is it? It seems one of those terms that defies the typical Latin architecture of words with the prefix re. To re-spite? No, thankfully not. Webster defines respite as ‘an interval of rest or relief… a putting off or delaying.’ In short, it’s a lull, and, interestingly, it can be a noun, verb or adjective. I don’t know how many words there are that can be all three of those.

Noun, verb or adjective, I wonder if I have ever needed respite more than I do just now.

The coronavirus has added many layers of complexity and grief to what had already been a very challenging ministry season. And in the midst of this unfortunate convergence, Gail and I have come yet again for a short respite to open up our humble little cabin in the northwoods, this old rustic place, this remote and familiar little parcel that is more precious to us than any other acre on earth, likely more precious than it ought to be. But it is, and for twenty-five years has always been, our place of respite. Yet it has also been so much more. It’s a place where we’ve shared intimately with family and friends. A place that holds many of our choicest memories. A place of simple beauty that often takes our breath away. A place for contemplation and reflection where important decisions have been suffered through and made. A place where we seem to make daily discoveries of natural wonder whenever here. And, as a result of just that, a place from which I’ve often written of the wonders of God’s creation for this blog.

Yes, we are remembering to do the social distancing thing so we don’t infect the locals with any germs from the big metropolis of Minneapolis, our current place of ministry service. The county in which our cabin lot sits doesn’t even have a known COVID case. But in the midst of everything being so very abnormal these last two-and-a-half months, it is surprising, almost uncanny, but certainly refreshing how very normal life feels here. Will that be the case a month from now? A year? What, after all, will the new normal be whether, as Dr. Seuss says, ‘here, there or anywhere?’

Which brings me back to my subject. The human spirit needs respite. For heaven’s sake, Jesus the Divine even needed respite, and that not only because, as the theologians say, he was fully man while also being fully God. For even God rested on the Seventh Day of creation.

Somehow, seek a place of respite,

or if not that, at least a moment of

it, for the sake of your soul.

Hmmm. Just now while I am writing, a dear friend has texted me to share an excerpt from a devotional book he’s currently in, one I’ve also often used, though am away from now, Celtic Daily Prayer, by the Northumbria monastic community in Ireland. (Check here for their daily prayer website.) My friend knows we are here for respite and reflection. The entry for May 27 says this:

It is a difficult lesson to learn today, to leave one’s friends and family and deliberately practise (sic -- that’s the Queen’s English!) the art of solitude for an hour or a day or a week… I find there is a quality to being alone that is incredibly precious… One is whole again, complete and round – more whole, even, than ever before.

The devotional also references Psalm 131, with that lovely text:

But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.

Whether you are in a challenging personal or vocational season, or suffering directly or indirectly from the unknowns and imbalances of this virus, or both, may I make a suggestion to you to find some calm and quiet moments with your God who loves you as intimately as the most loving mother? It is not easy to find time for this. But I implore you as I implore myself. Come to Jesus. Find rest. (See Matthew 11:28-30) Somehow, seek a place of respite, or if not that, at least a moment of it, for the sake of your soul. 

~~ RGM, May 27 2020

From My Nature Journal: "So Will I (100 Billion X)"

It has been quite some time since I’ve written a post about a nature song. Nature songs? Yes, there are many, old and new, songs that include beautiful or poetic references to the glory of God shown in God’s creation. And since both nature and music are two of my most oft-traveled spiritual pathways, I enjoy it very much when these two paths converge. I’ve written not infrequently along these lines, and they’re some of my favorite posts; check out the index tab called “The Music” -- above if you’re on your computer, or on the pull-down menu if on your phone.

But I recently came across another lovely song along these lines. It is not new as contemporary songs go, but it was new to me, and eventually I’ll share a couple links to it, one that includes fantastic nature photography, always enjoyable as I listen to nature music, and another a rendition done so well by a young singer in a church. The song is titled “So Will I (100 Billion X),” and proceeds generally along the line that if all of nature sings God’s praise, who are we to hold back from giving God ours?

Now, before I continue, I need to acknowledge the ‘nature’ of our circumstances during these days of physical distancing due to the coronavirus (March, 2020). God’s creation is amazing, and, yes, the virus is part of that natural world system God has created. The virus, along with earthquakes, tornados, hurricanes and the like, are part of the attributed set of so-called ‘acts of God,’ trials we endure on this created celestial orb we call Earth, that hit us randomly and often hit us hard. We’re taking a hard hit right now. These trials are not an indication, as some think, of the lack of God’s care or love for us, but a sign of creation’s (and God’s) dynamic nature. And since all who regularly read this blog understand the important place the natural world plays in our spiritual pursuits, and in the healing of our physical, emotional and spiritual infirmities, isn’t it good of God to provide the beauty and magnificence of nature to be a healing balm for us, even if at the same time something strikes us from the dynamism of that natural world? Nature can hurt, yes, but nature far more often can heal. So it is no wonder that government officials are even urging us, while we physically distance, to be sure to get outside and let nature do its healing work. I urge my readers all the time to do the same. Get outside, and let God speak to you and heal you through his creative majesty.

This is one of my motivations in sharing this post at this time. But there’s also a second.

It is still Lent, in case the virus has caused anyone to forget. The song also has a powerful message of the love of Christ, shown in his passion upon ‘a hill he created,’ a love embraced by many who have responded to God’s invitation.

So this brings me back to my intent today, sharing the nature (among other things) song, “So Will I.” Published in 2017 by Hillsong United, the creators of so many great praise songs, I am glad to have finally come across it. Here are its lyrics, along with the two recordings I said I’d attach: here and here. It’s not short, so queue it up and hang with it.

God of creation, there at the start before the beginning of time:
With no point of reference You spoke to the dark and fleshed out the wonder of light.

And as You speak, a hundred billion galaxies are born.
In the vapor of Your breath the planets form.
If the stars were made to worship so will I.

I can see Your heart in everything You've made,
Every burning star a signal fire of grace,
If creation sings Your praises so will I.

God of Your promise, You don't speak in vain, no syllable empty or void
For once You have spoken, all nature and science follow the sound of Your voice.

And as You speak a hundred billion creatures catch Your breath,
Evolving in pursuit of what You said.
If it all reveals Your nature so will I.

I can see Your heart in everything You say,

Every painted sky a canvas of Your grace.
If creation still obeys You so will I.

If the stars were made to worship so will I.
If the mountains bow in reverence so will I.
If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I.
For if everything exists to lift You high, so will I.
If the wind goes where You send it, so will I.
If the rocks cry out in silence, so will I.
If the sum of all our praises still falls shy,
Then we'll sing again a hundred billion times.

God of salvation, You chased down my heart through all of my failure and pride.
On a hill You created, the Light of the world abandoned in darkness to die.

And as You speak a hundred billion failures disappear
Where You lost Your life so I could find it here.
If You left the grave behind You so will I.
I can see Your heart in everything You've done,
Every part designed in a work of art called love;
If You gladly chose surrender so will I.

I can see Your heart a billion different ways,
Every precious one a child You died to save.
If You gave Your life to love them so will I,

Like You would again a hundred billion times.
But what measure could amount to Your desire?
You're the One who never leaves the one behind.

This is how Hillsong describes their song: it’s “… about God as an artisan… God as an artist working his masterpiece, a work of art called “love.” And it began with creation and goes through the whole story where it was finished at the cross. And now it continues to be rebirthed and restored in and through us here and now. The whole picture is response. If the stars were made to worship so will I… And the more we thought about it, there were endless metaphors and pictures and things that came back to this response. And maybe nothing better than if you laid your life down, if you gladly chose surrender, so will I. and if you left the grave behind you so will I. To me that’s everything, the entire story of why we’re here and our purpose and what it means to follow Jesus and live for him.” It’s a powerful song proclaiming a powerful and timeless truth.

Besides, if the world ever needed an Easter, and to know what Easter stands for, perhaps that time is now.

~~ RGM, March 31 2020