Finding God with the senses

It’s been a real pile-up of end-of-quarter work lately, with stacks of papers to grade and all the stress that goes into wrapping up the term.  But in the middle of all the craziness, God keeps on speaking through the language of the senses.  And every now and then, I’ve been able to tone down the stress and listen.

Here are three examples from the last week.


Last week we had crazy warm weather, in the eighties.  While I don’t love that in October — give me more seasonal cold and rain, especially in the face of this horrid drought — it was awfully nice to sit at the pool during the boys’ swim lesson and bask in the sun.

I had a book to read, but finally even that felt like too much effort.  All I wanted to do was luxuriate in the sun like a cat and feel the warmth … and, for a blessed half-hour, I did.   It was wonderful.


There was a full moon last week, or almost-full (sorry; I never can tell the difference).  I happened to be at my evening exercise class, which is held outdoors, and as I did the running portion of the circuit, I suddenly looked up and saw the moon there, just on the rise, astonishingly beautiful in its saffron splendor.  It was so perfect and round that it looked almost fake, like a moon in a  1950s MGM musical.

And then I thought: Why do I see beautiful things in nature and immediately think that they look fake?  (I do this all the time with sunsets.)  Have I forgotten that the natural world, the real world of fire and water and air and stone and light, is created by the best artist of all?

It was good to be reminded of that.


My local classical radio station has put so many great artists on my radar, and one of them is the Canadian violinist Angèle Dubeau.   I’ve been listening to this beautifully evocative piece lately, and doing so feels like prayer.   Great music always makes you feel like life is full of promise, doesn’t it?

Where have you been finding God lately?


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