All nature sings His glory

Praise flows from the million voices of crickets singing a late summer lullaby.

Glory cascades from the yellowest sunset I've ever seen.

Skepticism melts in the shadow of a gold harvest half moon.


His presence shines from every one of the thousand stars visible tonight.


He begs me for these: praise, glory, belief, presence with Him.

In everything beautiful, and in everything ugly about this world,
there is the shadow and whisper of His holiness.

He is making all things new.
Even my broken heart and shattered mind.