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: A Bloom for the Season

It's called a pasqueflower, a lovely of the high plains, mountain states and north.

Among the very first wildflowers of spring when we lived in the foothills of Colorado, pasqueflowers sometimes even pushed up through snowcover. I took this photo in very early spring some time back. As a cold weather flower, they tend to stay close to the ground, about six inches tall, and often can be found as in this photo in drier, rocky areas that hold the warmth of the late winter sun.

Sometimes confused with tulips, it’s also called the Prairie Crocus, May Day Flower, and appropriately, Easter Flower: those of you who perceive the etymology of words might have guessed the latter. Pasque comes from paschal: ‘of, or relating to, Easter or Passover.’ Picking up on the symbolism within the Jewish celebration of Passover, where a lamb’s blood protected the Hebrew people from the ravages of death (see Exodus 12), Jesus, in 1 Corinthians 5:7, is referred to as our Passover, or paschal, lamb. Though there are other flowers also associated with the blood of Christ (the Rose and Bleeding Heart among them), the Pasqueflower is associated with Easter by the timing of the season.

And so, with those redeemed of Christ throughout nearly two millennia, we pray: 

O Lamb of God, Who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.

O Lamb of God, Who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.

O Lamb of God, Who takes away the sins of the world, grant us Your peace.

Interestingly, though the plant is full of toxins, its derivatives can be used medicinally for birthing/labor issues and certain vision impairments. These uses offer all kinds of possibilities for further spiritual symbolisms, connecting Easter life to our circumstances, if we wanted to go that route.

Finally, kudos to the State of South Dakota and the Canadian Province of Manitoba, both of which had the creative presence of mind to name the Pasqueflower their state/provincial bloom, though known there by different names.

~~ RGM, March 31 2021

From My Nature Journal: The Kill Site

There’s a fresh kill site in the field behind the house, just beyond the backyard fence. I’m not yet sure what the remains are, seeing it here from the bedroom window, possibly a flicker taken by a hawk or a mourning dove by an owl. The killer might even have been a coyote, but likely not, as there are too many feathers spread about, and a coyote would have simply wolfed it all down (a curious cross-species morphism).

It’s always a bit humbling to come upon a kill site. Whether a bird near a trail or a mammal in the woods, it arrests my attention and sobers me. Almost always I pause and muse what the struggle must have been like, and in subsequent hikes I often remember the spot, a shrine, as if hallowed by virtue of what took place there.

It was something momentous, something of great drama. But a kill site only? It may seem a one-way loss looking at the carnage left behind, yet in the grand scheme of things there is something equally significant about it for the perpetuation of life. It’s as much a life site as a

kill site. A sacrifice was made, one for the benefit of the other. One surrenders, the other gains. One becomes the sustenance, the other is sustained. One submits, capitulates, loses, gives up, is emptied; the other prevails, triumphs, profits, is built up, filled. One is blessed, the other becomes the blessing.

Death begets life. Sacrifice cedes to vitality.

Oh, sweet Golgotha, the kill site…

But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. And since we have been made right in God’s sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God’s condemnation. (Romans 5:8-9, NLT)

~~ RGM, From an Old

Post in my Journal

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

From My Nature Journal: Faith Sees

Eyes see the January-barren tree.

Faith sees spring’s leaf buds and blossoms, tastes autumn’s fruit.

Eyes see the storm.

Faith sees life-enhancing rain that refreshes and supples the land.

Eyes see the small, inert-looking speck.

Faith sees all of that tiny seed’s fertile potential.

Eyes see the trail’s steep grade, effort and toil.

Faith sees the panoramic view at trail’s end.

Eyes see flames consuming, ravaging.

Faith sees warmth, light, nutrients and purification.

Eyes see wilderness’s danger and foreboding.

Faith sees its ability to produce recollection, thoughtfulness and intention.

Eyes see glitz, neon lights, goods, attractions, and amusements.

Faith sees their prospective power to damage the spirit.

Eyes see geese in chevron flight moving south for the long winter.

Faith sees a spring return on pacific breeze.

Eyes see little, scanning quickly over natural beauty.

Faith sees the good pleasure of the Creator, and lingers.

Eyes see death, stark and brutal.

Faith sees resurrection, hope springing eternal.

Eyes fail.

Only faith sees.

Marvelous redemption.

Blessed Easter Tomorrow, 
RGM, March 31 2018

POTM*: Near the Cross

(*Photos of the Month)

Two years ago late in Lent, while we were serving a wonderful church in southern New Mexico, Gail and I became aware of a lovely and lively little woodpecker pair seeming to take more than a casual interest in a large cross in the church’s landscaping. Within a couple days, believe it or not, we realized that they had chosen the cross in which to build their nest. Note: not on which to build their nest, mind you, but in which, adding a whole new meaning to the concept of finding new birth and life within the cross of Jesus Christ! Woodpeckers are cavity nesters, and there, right smack in the middle of the vertical beam and just up from the crossbeam, they had begun their hammering, chipping demolition.

Over the days that followed we kept as close track as we could while being careful not to drive them off with our curiosity. By Easter Sunday the hole was about an inch deep, but the little duo (he with a red cap, she without) really got into it once they went all out. A few days into Eastertide it was five inches deep. (OK, OK, I like things like this, and in their absence I’d check periodically with a ruler!) But then the cavity began heading downward, and soon after, when their presence became constant, I lost the ability to measure.

We researched them and found them to be Ladderback Woodpeckers. Typically these woodies nest in cactus, but this pair seemed to have a different plan that year. And yes, within several weeks time, they fledged several chicks. We even had some fun with the folks at the church and had a naming contest, though I cannot remember the winning entry.

Now, the beams from which the cross was made were solid, not hollow. The cross was sturdily built, and completely painted without so much as a blemish to get the creatures thinking. In other words, this spot was chosen — chosen over cactus, over hollow trees, over snags with holes already started, chosen over countless other available options. Chosen. In the cross! We all should be so smart as to make such a choice.

Which has gotten me to thinking... First, I wonder if the pair or its offspring have returned to the nest in subsequent years. Perhaps we’ll hear from one of our Las Cruces friends to let us know. But the other thing I get to wondering about is this whole idea of staying close to the cross of Christ. In 1869, Fanny Crosby, that prolific, blind, gospel hymn writer, penned a poem that has become one of her most beloved songs, “Jesus Keep Me Near the Cross.” Here it is, and if you need a reminder of the tune, you can hit this YouTube recording while you read:

Jesus, keep me near the cross. There, a precious fountain --

Free to all, a healing stream -- flows from Calvary’s mountain.

In the cross, in the cross, be my glory ever,

‘Til my raptured soul shall find rest beyond the river.

Near the cross! A trembling soul, love and mercy found me.

There the Bright and Morning Star shed His beams around me.

Near the cross! O Lamb of God, bring its scenes before me.

Help me walk from day to day with its shadow o’er me.

Near the cross! I’ll watch and wait, hoping, trusting ever,

‘Til I reach the golden strand just beyond the river.

In the cross, in the cross, be my glory ever,

‘Til my raptured soul shall find rest beyond the river.

This Lent, like a couple of my former avian friends, I am finding my comfort near the cross of Jesus. Join me?

~~ RGM, March 12, 2017

From My Nature Journal: I Know My Redeemer Lives!

OK, I cannot hold this one back any longer, a great musical track for Easter that I’d like you to take a listen to. Years ago I became familiar with a song by Nicole Mullen called Redeemer, and, I kid you not, it makes me cry to this day whenever I hear it. Now as you all know, whether you’ve met me or not (if not, you’ve ‘met me’ through this blog), I’m usually a very stoic and unfeeling person. Errr… just kidding. I know I can be a wimp when it comes to music, something that, along with nature, is also for me a spiritual pathway to God. Always been that way and always will. Whether it’s Vivaldi’s Four Seasons or Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, music can get me going and charge my spirit like few other things. And if music, nature, and a holiday like Easter all line up for a possible blogpost, I feel as though I’ve scored the trifecta.

I’m not certain when Redeemer was first recorded, but Mullen won Song of the Year and Singer/Songwriter of the year for it at the Gospel Music Association’s Dove Awards in Nashville in 2001. I became aware of it only when we either bought or someone gave us the Wow Worship: Yellow CD some time after it was published in 2003. So I’ve enjoyed it for well over ten years, yet I ask: When will I stop crying when I hear it?

As far as its nature lyrics go, they’re pretty simple. The first verse of the song reflects scriptures from Psalm 74:16, Job 38:8-11, 31-33 and Genesis 1:16-18. Check them out. Of course, with sea levels fluctuating over the eons and rising today, the texts are not intended as science but more accurately and simply as a testimony to God’s mighty power as shown through nature. And the music? To me it is breathtaking -- from Mullen’s powerful, crescendoing and decrescendoing vocals, to the beautiful harmonies of her background choir, to the grandeur of the orchestration. And if I may have a little fun with the music, her rendition includes what might actually be the most individual notes ever sung to a single-syllable word in the history of music! Listen for it, and enjoy. It shows some incredibly gifted 

                                         voice control.

But the song’s message as it relates to Easter? Priceless... I know that my Redeemer lives! That theme is addressed in the second verse, reflecting scriptures such as Luke 15:20, 1 Corinthians 15:54-57 and Revelation 21:4. (Check these out, too!) But it reaches maximum emphasis in the chorus: we have a Redeemer, and not only do our changed lives testify to it -- all of creation does! “I know that my Redeemer lives!” are words taken from Job 19:25-27; in the midst of his suffering and the unhelpful ‘guidance’ of his ‘friends,’ Job’s throbbing testimony in those verses is equal in intensity to Mullen’s in the song. All of creation testified that truth to Job as well.

…We have a Redeemer, and not

only do changed lives testify to it --

all of creation does!

I hope you’ll have time to do something today or early this Easter week: find a quiet, prayerful time, maybe even towards evening, and hit one of the following links to listen to the song while you consider the words prayerfully. Let it be for you a paschal prayer. This first link is to Mullen’s official music video without lyrics, and this second a YouTube recording with karaoke-style lyrics. But hey, you’ve got the lyrics here…

Redeemer, By Nicole C. Mullen

Who taught the sun where to stand in the morning?

And who told the ocean, “You can only come this far?”

And who showed the moon where to hide till evening?

Whose words alone can catch a falling star?

Well, I know my Redeemer lives.

I know my Redeemer lives.

All of creation testifies

And this life within me cries, “I know my Redeemer lives.”

The very same God that spins things in orbit

Runs to the weary, the worn and the weak.

And the same gentle hands that hold me when I’m broken?

They conquered death to bring me victory.

Now, I know my Redeemer lives.

I know my Redeemer lives.

Let all creation testify,

Let this life within me cry, “I know my Redeemer...”

He lives to take away my shame.

And He lives! Forever I’ll proclaim

That the payment for my sin was the precious life he gave.

And now He’s alive and there’s an empty grave.

And I know my Redeemer lives…

I know my Redeemer lives.

Let all creation testify,

Let this life within me cry, “I know my Redeemer lives...”

I pray you are secure in this knowledge as well. If not, of all days, wouldn’t today be a good day for you to do something about that?

~~ Blessed Easter!

RGM, March 27, 2016

P.S. If you’d like to know a bit about Nicole Mullen, find more here.