I received this video link in an email from a friend, and sent it on to my family and friends. Then I thought to preserve it here on this little old blog. Here's what went out:
Thank you, Suzanne! This is a keeper. I've added a few corroborating scripture references. Enjoy, everyone! You'll find the link to the video waaay down at the bottom!
Isaiah 55:12 For you shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
Luke 19:40 And he (Jesus) answered and said unto them, I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.
Psalm 148:5 Let every created thing give praise to the LORD, for he issued his command, and they came into being.
I Chron. 16:31-33 31 Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice: and let men say among the nations, The Lord reigneth. 32 Let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof: let the fields rejoice, and all that is therein. 33 Then shall the trees of the wood sing out at the presence of the Lord.
This is enough for me. If the mountains and the hills sing, and the trees clap their hands, and the very rocks cry out in praise of our Lord, I have no problem believing that the blooming of a flower is a song of praise as well.
I have a little plaque in my garden that reads "The kiss of the sun for pardon, the song of a bird for mirth. One is nearer God's heart in a garden than anywhere else on earth." It had been in my mom's garden for years, and I brought it home when we closed out their house. I thank God for parents who brought me up to know and love God, and to recognize the beauty He has placed all around us.
I sit at my big old window and look out over my yard, and there are already flowers everywhere. A bed of pansies is just so bright and beautiful, you can almost hear their voices when you walk near. The "windflowers" (ranunculas) are all dressed in red and blue, and sway in joyful song, in rhythm with the vagrant breezes this morning. A few daffodils have opened, their little center trumpets surely praising God. Some hyacinths have added their soft, pink and blue voices to the chorus, and judging by the fat buds I see rising, it won't be long until the rich altos and mezzo-sopranos of the irises will be heard. The roses have been deeply pruned, but it won't be long until they'll rise up, bud out, and take up the chorus. A few tiny crocuses remain, their little peeping voices must sound to the Lord like our little children sound to us when they sing at church.
Song - a gift within itself. The song of birds, the songs of children, the magnificent presentations of a mighty choir, the rumble of the voice of my husband so many years ago - a little off-key, but who cared? God surely gave us the gift of song to gladden our hearts, and how lovely to realize that the very flowers are singing, too. l will never look at a beautiful bloom again, without hearing its voice as well.
Click : La vida de las flores
Forty Years Later
1 day ago