August 23, 2021 (Monday)
The photograph below reveals a view of Yosemite National Park, as near Heaven on Earth as possible. But the photographs fail to reveal how very beautiful it actually is. Pictures cannot capture the spritual experience of being immersed in our natural world. Without Bibles, sermons or churches one feels the very presence of God in such a beautiful place.
John Muir, famous explorer of the western United States, said, “Everybody needs beauty…places to play and pray in, where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to body and soul alike.” A writer of natural beauty said of Yosemite National Park, “It is often said that when the first settlers came to Yosemite they immediately called it God’s Cathedral ~ because it was a place of such beauty God could worship there.”
Yes, this is my Father’s world.
THIS IS MY FATHER’S WORLD
Author: Maltbie D. Babcock
1901
This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world,
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas,
His hand the wonders wrought.
This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world,
He shines in all that’s fair,
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass,
He speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father’s world.
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world, why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King, let the heavens ring!
God reigns, let the earth be glad!
This is my Father’s world, dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes, and in glad surprise cry,
“The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world, from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came a pledge of deathless love.
This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King let the heavens ring.
God reigns let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world.
Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.
This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.