Wednesday, November 5, 2014


 I am a self-professed lover of beauty. I have a passion for it. Sunsets and sunrises take my breath away. A violin and piano duet gives me chills. A sparkling diamond. A child's laugh. Mountains and palm trees, the ocean, white sand, a delicate rose, black and white photographs, architecture, the way a napkin is folded on a perfectly set table--I see beauty everywhere I look. And I want to dive in headfirst, to let this passion for beauty swallow me whole.

So much so that sometimes I forget.

I forget that God is the creator of all things beautiful.

The Heavens declare the glory of God;
The skies proclaim the work of His hands.
{psalm 19:1}

The human mind. And horses.

And I start to praise the beautiful things. I start to think that those are the things that will fill me up, that will make me so, so happy, that will keep me going when I get weary and tired and sad. And I start to desire those things more than I desire the One who created them.

It's okay to dream. I even think it's okay to let the passion for the gifts God has given us to run wild, untamed.


When I think of being free, I feel like I can breath again. But sometimes the very things that are supposed to make us free turn into heavy yokes on our back. Like when I start worshiping the gifts instead of the giver.

It's hard to deny God when you can look outside and see His Glory displayed.

Sometimes I do it anyway. I take for granted the things I see and touch, and my heart becomes calloused to the beauty all around me.

But when I am reminded of how great He is, it is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

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