Shaped by Your Hands

At the edge of the hill is a quiet place where I like to sit and watch the creek waters run. This place is secluded by the trees and at the same time gives me a view of everything you have made. The jagged edges of the surrounding hillsides hold the water in as it splashes over white on the rocks and fallen tree limbs. I wrap my arms around my knees as I close my eyes and listen to the birds in the high branches sing and the breeze of your breath stir up the sounds. I could not imagine such a peaceful place let alone have the hands to create one as you’ve done. Here I’m perfectly hidden away from the main thoroughfare and even from anyone else on foot. Perched like an eagle to this cliff, I am at once completely in awe of you and on guard. As David wrote, “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth.” And likewise, the darkened depths of the Earth you shaped into this. We, your followers, sometimes wonder where your Garden of Eden was and what it was like to be there, walking with you. But then I realize—your garden is everywhere. So are you. And every step we take, you watch over us as the loving father we never knew here.