Category: Inspiration

Love

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Have you ever thought that people give love the way they understand it?  It might be a hot meal prepared for us, hugs given, kind words, gifts, or working hard to provide for us. The way love is given and received is a complicated thing. We all are shaped by our personalities, upbringing, and experiences, from a baby, fast forwarding to who we are now.

As a follower of Jesus Christ, my love should grow and move beyond just my understanding. It begins to become something that defies all explanation and boxes that I can put it in. It transcends how I was raised or my personalities and experiences. It begins to be unexplainable.

Why?  Jesus Christ.  He is my Ultimate Example. He humbled Himself to become a lowly person. He came from the Throne Room and chose not only to be human, but the lowest form.  He gives love in a way that I will never understand and it defies all finite logic. You can’t figure this sort of Love out with your mind.  I have to take it by faith.

I was lying on my bed, comfy beneath my quilts, when these thoughts started rumbling around in my head. Maybe something between a desperate prayer for help in all my relationships, and the half dreamlike state I find myself in before the first hot cup of coffee.

What if I could see clearly the why behind how people love?  What if I could read their minds? What if I could receive their love perfectly and give love perfectly to each person I  meet?  It could radically change the way relationships and the world works. However, I can’t do this perfectly in a fallen world.  I have to by faith choose to love like Jesus. It isn’t easy, but far too often I use the difficulty of something as an excuse to not even try.

I am super challenged to gaze at the Amazing Love Jesus lavishes on me.  I’m challenged to take this love by faith and not try to figure it out. Just to bask under it, believe it, and live through it. Loving that child when they are super difficult because Jesus loves difficult me.  Not trying to guess and judge suspiciously the motives of people around me, but to love and care for them with no strings attached.  Loving with no fear, because relationships are going to hurt, expose, use, and frustrate me.  I’m challenged because Jesus loved without fear. He was ridiculed, abandoned, and killed, yet He didn’t let that hold back His love. Loving and accepting myself as a creation of God, not by some arbitrary standard the culture measures with or experiences that have influenced my view of myself.

I want to love as Jesus loves, a defying Love. This is a “radical” love that rejects all hurt, hate, and frustrations. Love that views people and relationships as the main reason for living, working, and dying. Jesus loves people! Nothing can ever be more important to Him then the saving love and redemption of all people. A relationship between Him and us. I waste far too much time focusing on trivial things and forget His unconditional love.  And then I start thinking too much and distrusting too often. I try to figure out all the catch phrases in the Christian culture…tough love, love the sinner not the sin, discipleship, theology, and on and on.  Maybe there is an element of truth in them, but the truth comes back to Jesus. Just love. For me, I must move away from rationalizing, figuring things out, judging, or categorizing and begin to love in the raw.

I’m unfinished, and unlovable and yet Jesus loves me with a PERFECT, unending love. He moves, working in me to strengthen me in right choices against my sinful nature and hatred and craziness, but His first ingredient is love. Jesus loves all the bare, insecure parts of me because He is Love. I don’t have to understand any part of this, I just have to believe it. May I love even a fraction like this!

~

Anne of Green Gables: Chapter 2

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Continuing our reading…

Now we come to dear Matthew and Anne. The very illustration on the front of my beat-up paperback is such a sweet part of this chapter. I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, however.

Montgomery shares some of her lovely nature-aware writing here…

“It was a pretty road, running along between snug farmsteads, with now and again a bit of balsamy fir wood to drive through or a hollow where wild plums hung out their filmy bloom. The air was sweet with the breath of many apple orchards and the meadows sloped away in the distance to horizon mists of pearl and purple; while

The little birds sang as if it were

The one day of summer in all the year.” pg 9

I adore “farmstead” and “balsamy”.

I find Matthew’s shyness  around women to be endearing and slightly humorous. Perhaps having Marilla for a sister and how long has Rachel Lynde been his neighbor I wonder, may not have helped his shyness? He dare not have any opinion or maybe never could get a word in edgewise.  Remember even a disorderly stream straightens at the sight of Mrs. Rachel!

And now we are introduced to our Dear Friend of the Ages…

“A child of about eleven, garbed in a very short, very tight, very ugly dress of yellowish gray wincey. She wore a faded brown sailor hat and beneath the hat, extending down her back, were two braids of very thick, decidedly red hair. Her face was small, white and thin, also much freckled; her mouth was large and so were her eyes, that looked green in some lights and moods and gray in others.” pg 11

I love this…

“…our discerning extraordinary observer might have concluded that no commonplace soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-child of whom shy Matthew Cuthbert was so ludicrously afraid.” pg 11

I hope I can be a discerning observer with people, especially children. Even just a good observer, not even extraordinary. 😉 Caring about each person as unique and special.

Oh, Anne, you and your cheery tree!

“It’s so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn’t it? They were good, you know – the asylum people. But there is so little scope for the imagination in an asylum – only just in the other orphans.” pg 12

I love how Anne immediately sees a friend in Matthew and really starts sharing pretty deep thoughts and feelings. She is so open. She tries to see good in people…I love this,

“A merchant in Hopeton last winter donated three hundred yards of wincey to the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn’t sell it, but I’d rather believe that it was out of the kindness of his heart, wouldn’t you?” pg 14

I love how she calls the Island the “bloomiest place”. Sigh.

And after Matthew telling he doesn’t know what makes the roads red,

“Well, that is one of the things to find out sometime. Isn’t it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive – it’s such an interesting world. It wouldn’t be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it? There’d be no scope for imagination then, would there?” pg 15

That above quote reminds me of the British educator Charlotte Mason’s quote, “Not what we have learned, but what we are waiting to know is the delectable part of knowledge.” School Education, pg 273

Scope for the imagination. ❤

“…people laugh at me because I use big words. But if you have big ideas you have to use big words to express them, haven’t you?” pg 15

“Yes, it’s red,” she said resignedly. “Now you see why I can’t be perfectly 🙂 happy. Nobody could who had red hair. I don’t mind the other things so much – the freckles and the green eyes and my skinniness. I can imagine them away. I can imagine that I have a beautiful rose leaf complexion and lovely starry violet eyes. But I cannot imagine that red hair away. I do my best. I think to myself, ‘Now my hair is a glorious raven black, black as the raven’s wing.’ But all the time I know it is just plain red, and it breaks my heart. It will be my life long sorrow.” 🙂 pg 16

Oh my! There are so many good lines and parts in this chapter! How she asks Matthew if he would rather be “divinely beautiful” or “dazzinglingly clever”. pg 17

How she is struck deeply by the beauty of the Avenue and insists on renaming it “the White Way of Delight”. pg 18

Barry’s Pond + Anne = The Lake of Shining Waters.

“Isn’t it splendid there are so many things to like in this world?” pg 20

She catches her first glimpse of Green Gables, Matthew growing a bit uneasy about the coming storm.

” Listen to the trees talking in their sleep ,” she whispered, as he lifted her to the ground. “What nice dreams they must have!” pg 22

What  lovely trip home to Green Gables! What did you enjoy about this chapter?

~

Harold E. Kohn

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Winter Thoughts

Long ago geographers and anthropologists proved that civilization advances most rapidly in the temperate zones where there is a mixture of weather conditions – summer balminess followed by autumn chill and wintry blasts of wind and snow. The year-round warmth of the tropics makes for spiritual torpor, mental laziness, and physical dullness. It takes all kinds of weather to stimulate men to be at their best.

     While we pray for lives full of sunshine and pleasantness, God could do us no greater harm than to answer these prayers, for it takes all kinds of weather to grow a soul. Radiant days are necessary, when bright blessing shine down upon us from above and we absorb providential goodness as a sunny hillside soaks up light. Rainy days are needed when the spirit is refreshed and cleansed as when leaves, grasses, and crops of countless forests and fields drink deeply of heaven’s plenty. But wintry cold and snowy blasts from the North are also required in the temperate life -days when our lives are revealingly tested just as hard winds, heavy snows, and slashing sleet prove the strengths and weaknesses of a Northern woods, bowing snow-laden evergreen limbs in humility and breaking rotten branches off all the trees. So life’s hard weather demonstrates in us what deserves to last and what ought to fade and die. Only winter clearly shows which trees are evergreen!

     All weathers make a soul. It was after blindness descended upon John Milton that he wrote his sublimest poetry. Beethoven’s loveliest sonatas were composed after he was stricken with deafness. What would Lincoln be without his lifelong seizures of melancholy? What would Christ be with be without His cross? 

     An American tourist in Italy watched a lumberjack at work. As the logs floated down the swift mountain stream the lumberman would thrust his hook into a particular log and draw it aside.

“Those logs all look alike, ” said the tourist. “Why do you pick out just a few?”

“They are not all alike,” the lumberman replied. “Some were grown low on the mountainside where they were protected all their lives from harsh winds. Their grains are coarse. They are good only for lumber, so I let them pass on down the stream to the lumber mills. But a few logs grew on the mountain top. From the the time they were tiny seedlings they felt the lashings of high winds and the weight of heavy snows, and they grow strong and tough and fine-grained. We do not use these for ordinary lumber. No, sir! These few are especially selected for choice work.”

     So God uses wind buffeted souls for His choicest work.

Thoughts Afield

Harold E. Kohn

pg 132-133

Thinking this morning more on this and this lovely piece here also!

Anne of Green Gables : Chapter 1

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I’ve always loved L.M. Montgomery’s beautiful nature descriptions and rich, deep characters. I forgot how humorous these books are for some reason. I don’t think humor comes through quite as strongly in some of Montgomery’s other titles. Maybe I just haven’t read enough of them or paid close enough attention! I was so glad to see how many of you sounded interested in this project , I think we all are truly kindred spirits.

Chapter 1 opens with our dear Mrs. Rachel Lynde…I chuckled at this…

“…for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde’s door without due regard for decency and decorum..” pg 1

I was so charmed how Lucy Maude introduces us to Mrs. Lynde by way of small, side comments alluding to her being into everyone’s business while keeping quite on top of her own.

I think words such as “betokened” need to have a resurgence in our English language. Really. They are GORGEOUS.

Upon seeing Matthew Cuthbert driving by in a SUIT and COLLAR no less , Mrs. Rachel, “…ponder as she might, could make nothing of it and her afternoon’s enjoyment was spoiled.” pg 3 🙂

I absolutely love the Naming of places and things through Montgomery’s writings. Swoon. And swoon again. Lynde’s Hollow. Green Gables. Bright River.

As Mrs. Lynde reaches Green Gables all in a dither, I love this about  Marilla, “Here sat Marilla Cuthbert, when she sat at all, always slightly distrustful of sunshine, which seemed to her too dancing and irresponsible a thing for a world which was meant to be taken seriously; and here she sat now, knitting, and the table behind her was laid for supper.” pg 4

This made me think a bit of how opposite really Marilla is of Anne. We know, of course, what happens in this story, but one has to ponder if Marilla really needed Anne in a sense MORE than Anne needed her.

Mrs. Lynde’s shock and surprise is so funny and what’s the most funny thing about it is that she is so appalled the Marilla dare make a decision like this without informing or asking HER first.  After Mrs. Lynde blasts Marilla with scary stories on orphans…this cracked me up…”This Job’s comforting seemed neither to offend nor alarm Marilla. She knitted steadily on.” pg 7

One has to overlook a few old-fashioned, NOT “politically correct” references in this chapter and focus really on the two characters that we are being introduced to…Rachel and Marilla. Opposite really, but they say opposites attract…and I was just thinking about how in some ways the friendship of these older ladies is just as kindred as the later one of Anne and Diana.

What jumped out to you?

~

Reading through Anne…

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Does anyone want to join me in a little project of delight? I want to read through the entire 8 book Anne of Green Gables Series by L.M. Montgomery again. These are some of the most cherished books of my life, and I thought it would be fun to read and write through them…I’m putting no time limit on this, so it could take me a year or ten 🙂 , but I know it will be a joy. Join me on your own blog space OR just comment in the comment section about sections that stood out to you, quotes, life lessons, and just Anne love. I enjoy reading challenges, but I don’t like pressure added to my life. This is a lovely journey to me with NO pressure. You are welcome to join. I will list these under Anne Shirley in my Ramblings category cloud, so if you miss one, just check there and read along! 🙂 Avonlea, here I come! 🙂

~

Diamonds come forth…

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Did you know that diamonds are birthed after 725,000 pounds of pressure? I’ve been thinking of all the squeezing, pressure, struggles, and frustrations that can make up moments of my life. The reality is that most of my “trouble” in this life is just exactly that…REAL life. It isn’t extraordinary or special, it is the daily plodding through life that we all do this side of Heaven. I also acknowledge that the troubles here in America can’t compare to the struggle for daily living in many places.

Yet, the relationships, remodeling, the home educating, the dishes, the meals, the laundry for my family are pressing daily. The beautiful, yet busy holiday pressures of celebrations, traditions, and  gatherings hover over me. The colder weather, the different ages of my children and their needs, my marriage relationship, friends, and don’t forget all the other fringe people in our lives that need love, care, and concern.

The pressure is intense. Yet, just maybe, if I can choose patience, choose joy, choose to look at it differently…these moments are some of our best remembered memories. “Oh, Mom! Remember that time you spun the van around in the driveway? Dad was awesome and dug you out!” “Remember that time we used candles and had an oatmeal picnic in your room when the electricity was out?” “Remember that time we made homemade gifts to stretch the budget?” “Remember the countless hours we snuggled up in the winter, reading together, instead of going out?”  “Remember how you lugged wood seven months pregnant? (I do indeed remember that.)” “Remember dad saving the day?” “Remember that man who helped us?” I could go on and on. The truth is that a mixture of pressures, patience, and hope in Jesus can do more for us then living a comfortable, stress-free life. We can come forth as diamonds.

In these hard moments, it is almost impossible to see the sparkle and gleam of what God is working into our hearts, character, and very being. Believe me, I’ve felt like screaming if one more thing broke at home, or we might not have what I want immediately, but *gasp* have.to.wait. God-forbid, you have to wait for something you want, Amy.

Time and time again, the truth comes forth with patience and perseverance. The whole beauty of life doesn’t lie in the few lovely seemingly perfect moments. It lies in what it took to get there. The working hard, loving hard, falling down, getting up, and pressing on patiently.

~

Amy Carmichael

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O Thou in whose right hand were seven stars,

And whose right hand was on Thy servant laid,

How tender was Thy touch, Thy word, Be not afraid.

Thou who didst say, O man greatly beloved,

Fear not, and, Peace be unto thee, be strong,

What wealth of grace and mercy doth to Thee belong.

 

Thy touch, Thy word, and lo, like to a cloud

That was but is not in the fields of air,

So is the fear we feared; we look, it is not there,

Dissolved, departed, banished by Thy touch.

Oh, as we pray, purge us from every fear,

Thou who dost hold the stars, our Lord, art Thou not here?

 

Thou Givest…They Gather

Amy Carmichael

pg 31

Tea, Cake, and Susan Branch

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Dear Susan Branch , I just turned the last page of your Martha’s Vineyard: Isle of Dreams. I was so inspired and enchanted. As a wife, mother and home cook, I found it just the perfect shot of encouragement.  I often loose sight of the little bits of joy in creating a home for my loved ones. I  found so much to be inspired by your tenacity in keeping at your dreams.  Your books, especially, Isle of Dreams, and then, A Fine Romance have brought so many smiles to my face, tears (I felt bad for you!), chuckles, and beautiful quotes to think on. Your thoughts on books, movies, cooking,  gardening, and gushes about little lovely bits of life make my feelings of kindred spirit well up. Isle of Dreams was my favorite, but  A Fine Romance was a very close second and I thought of you and just about swooned with delight as I had the chance to visit England this year.

One of the biggest things I loved about Isle of Dreams, was how much you praised and thought on all that you mother had done for you. It is so encouraging to know that little touches, the hot meals, and the traditions reached you and are remembered in a small way. I found that such a blessing to see a child of a big family praising the hard work her mother did for her family. Motherhood isn’t really a prized profession these days and the endless mundane dance we do each day while being told we have to be something MORE can really beat a woman down.

The little cocoa cups, the tea pots, your kitties, the ivy, and the endless magical little paintings you include teach me more than just love of beauty. I want to learn to pay attention deeply, and I pray my children will follow. Just to really listen to people, to savor  meals, to delight in lingering over tea, to mull over and discuss great books, and to never forget their faith. I desire to grow deeper relationships through hospitality and sharing life. You delight and excel in those gifts. Thank you, Susan, for your sweet books and a bit of brightness and warmth to wrap myself in, with a bit of tea and cake, of course.

With love,

Amy

Inspired by this writer, we enjoyed this lovely coffee cake with tea and some new MUSICA for a fall treat. Enjoy!

~

November Days

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The morning suns greets my eyes. I slip on my glasses and glory in the view. The old house creaks a bit and I walk pass the piles flooring we have yet to put in upstairs. I stumble down the ancient farmhouse stairs, dreaming of a steaming cup of coffee. Perhaps I should set up a coffee maker in my room? Maybe that is a bit extreme. 🙂 The chatter of voices greet me. “Hey, Mom. Guess what my dream was?” and “What’s for breakfast?” and “I’m cold, Mom! Where’s my sweatshirt?” all sing out as I grab my package of coffee from the freezer and start my Nectar of Life a brewing. My son begins making oatmeal for everyone, which usually ends up somewhere between water-y porridge or rock hard cement, but we all love it with brown sugar, walnuts, and a dash of milk. Some add a twist with a bit of peanut butter.

I am a huge fan of the author Gladys Taber. Have you read anything by her? She wrote extensively on her farm, Stillmeadow. As I pour my coffee, I take in the scene around me and begin to compose it, in my head, attempting to grasp the charm that Gladys always seems to find as she pens her normal days around the farm. Of course, Gladys lived a different life than me. She worked outside of the home for a time and also ends up having more dogs than children. Yet, I feel a kinship to her, leaning back against the cupboard, sipping, and taking in the beauty of the daily mundane doings and yes, chaos.

“Good news, Mom! Gandalf’s pink eye is clearing up!” is the glad shout I hear next from a precious child. Yes, go ahead and chuckle. Gandalf is our barn cat, so I guess creatures do have a part in my life, Gladys.

We move on through our day, alternating between discussions, chores, and books, with a few fights over stuffed animals and whose scissors the purple ones REALLY are. (They’re actually mine.) Ahh… glorious books. We have chosen to live life with our children here at home, learning together. Gerald Johnson takes us through early American history, we laugh at Ogden Nash’s poetry, and giggle as Louis the Trumpeter Swan learns how to play TAPS on his new trumpet. We write some, do a little math, make some caramel corn, and breathe the fresh, albeit tinged with burning leaves, country air. Someone is always asking me when’s the next meal. My crock pot definitely earns its keep.

I gaze at the steam rising from my coffee cup. Sigh. “Mom, the sewer guy is here.” My romantic ruminations are ruined. Reality stinks a bit, doesn’t it? 😉 I watch the fellow from my window, what a job, huh? He is stooped and haggard looking, I’m thankful for him, he makes my job a bit easier.

A few loads of laundry swirling around, blankets on the line. The scratching noise of pen on paper, drawings and journal entries being created. An old, petrified apple core peeks out from under the couch at me. Ahh. These November days. I get “questioned out” at about 4:00 pm, is there really still 4 or 5 hours till bedtime? Yet, I love this life I’ve been given. So, like Gladys and everyone before and those to come after, I rustle up some ingredients and go about thinking supper thoughts. I sneak in a few minutes of reading in my “garrett” as my daughter calls my bedroom, where I like to hide as frequently as possible. “You can’t just stay up here in your garrett all day, Mom, like Jo March!”

I cave in and put on the electronic babysitter. They have chosen the 1935 version of A Midsummer’s Night Dream with James Cagney and Mickey Rooney. It’s a bit creepy and weird, but I hear a laugh. A Puck-ish laugh, come to think of it.   Later the candles are lit, we began our supper with prayers and because it’s the season of thanksgiving, we purposefully go around sharing what we are thankful for today.

I’m thankful for all the November days days I’ve been given, for little blonde girls who shared their drawing with me, “Here’s what I drawed, Mom.”. I’m thankful for grins after a resolved fight over Nutella, and the piles of books to dig into soon. I’m thankful for the beauty of life. And maybe I DO need that coffee maker in my garrett.

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A favorite recipe for you!

Skillet Sausage and Mushroom Penne

*adapted from original recipe from December/January 2014 Cook’s Country magazine – I use things I have on hand and I’ve doubled the original recipe here for my crowd.

1 pkg sausage of your choice (I use breakfast sausage )

fresh mushrooms, chopped – (I use half to a whole package)

4 cups chicken broth

1 can diced tomatoes (sometimes 2, depending if I feel tomato-y or not)

about 1 1/2 packages penne, this is like 18 oz?? I think

1 1/2 cups heavy cream (I actually use half n half, because I rarely have cream on hand)

Parmesan cheese (being the gourmet that I am, I use the green can shake cheese, I know. The horror. You are welcome to use freshly grated.)

  1. Cook sausage, breaking it up, until no longer pink, add in mushrooms. Cook together till brown. Transfer mixture to bowl, set aside.
  2. Return skillet to heat, add broth, tomatoes and juice, pasta, and cream. Bring to boil. Reduce heat, simmer, stirring often, until pasta is al dente. (I actually use a pot, because of the doubling of the recipe!)
  3. Stir sausage-mushroom mixture and 1/2 cup Parmesan into pasta. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Top with other 1/2 cup of Parmesan, cover, and remove from heat until cheese is melted.

Enjoy! I serve it alone for quick lunch or add a salad as a side for a bigger dinner.

~

Soup

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(Chicken & Veggie Soup)

I am always so happy when autumn rolls around. Simply because it is the beginning of three delicious seasons of soup. Here in the Northern Midwest, autumn, winter, and spring are all soup weather. I have such a hard time knowing what to feed my hungry crowd during the summer. My life becomes easier by this humble dish and it is a lovely way to use up what is sitting around my kitchen and stretch what we have on hand. As I’ve been chopping, stirring, and watching this autumn’s batch of soup simmering, something has come to mind over and over again. Of course, the feelings of warmth, home, and family meals, but something deeper even. Our lives are made up of many bits and pieces, simmering and very often tried over fire. My faith challenges me to believe that all of these parts make up a complete whole. Each part of soup and life is important to the finished product. If I just threw one onion into a pot, it would not come out well, if I do not wait patiently for all the ingredients to be added, slowly, and patiently cooked, I would not have a glorious meal worth sharing at the end.  The wafting scent lingering in the house and the savoring of soup, crackers or bread in hand, bring to mind all that the Lord desires for our lives to be. One of wholeness in Him.  I want to stew 🙂 on this more, but it is an important lesson for me.

Our current favorite soup:

(I adapted this from an online recipe YEARS ago, forgive me for not knowing the original source.)

Rosemary Potato & Ham Soup

(I often make this in a 7 quart crock pot, but it can be done quickly on the stove also)

Favorite potatoes, chopped. I don’t peel the potatoes, but you can if so desired.

Small ham piece, chopped.

Chicken broth to cover, about 6 cups.

A Bay Leaf, or two.

Rosemary.

Salt & pepper to taste.

1/2 stick of butter

Crock pot: Layer alternating chopped potatoes & ham. Sprinkle a little bit of dried rosemary every other layer. Throw in bay leaf. Dot top with butter. Add s & p. Cook on high for 5 hours or till tender.

Stove top: Throw everything together in a pot, simmer.

Serve with crackers or fresh bread.

~

 

 

Speak to me…

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The past summer I moved to a different property. We had been renting it and found ourselves in need a bit more space. My husband was itching to spread out a bit, his love of wide open spaces drawing him. I was really struggling with this plan. Various reasons, really. Hidden Valley Farm had owned a piece of my heart for the last 10 years, so many memories. As we traveled back and forth, readying our new farm, I began to notice the beauty of the drive and the area in which I was going to be living. It was like through my worries about the remodeling, paying bills, house showings, and all the minutiae, the nature, along the way, really began to speak to me. I stopped being frustrated about how far it seemed from our little current city and our life activities. I saw it in a new light. It took me awhile, a really conscious quieting of the litany of voices running through my head. How had I hated this drive? How had I been so frustrated by being removed more? Fast forward to today, November, a few months into our new residence. A few months of a sense of place. There is nothing more lovely then what these vast views say to me. The stream’s meandering, hill’s solid stance, and tree’s dance. It is like a true Church to me. A extension of my faith. I exit my car or return from my walk, inspired and in awe. Seems like a lot from a little bit of nature, huh? The sunsets, slanting light, the quaint, slow simmer of country life, all are a prayer and a song.

And one cried unto another, and said, “Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory.” Isaiah 6:3

“But now ask the beasts, and they will teach you;
And the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
 Or speak to the earth, and it will teach you;
And the fish of the sea will explain to you.
 Who among all these does not know
That the hand of the Lord has done this,
In whose hand is the life of every living thing,
And the breath of all mankind?” Job 12: 7-10

Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad;
Let the sea roar, and all its fullness;
 Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it.
Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord. Psalm 96:11-12

The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork. Psalm 19:1

~