Unsurpassed
The wonders of your vast creation, God, we cannot know
While standing still in winter woods with gentle kiss of silent snow
Tree majesty surrounds, astounds
affirms how slight the space and place we hold
Here.
Yet we are made magnificent as mountains tall
and woven delicate in details all,
filled with life… more so than rushing icy stream
Awestruck we pause, attempt to fathom magnitude
of You… and us… and all we see and cannot see around
We still feel small,
perceiving insignificant to stars and seas and all between
But You never told us that.
The culmination jewel of all creation
You set us…
fashioned in the image of Creator,
never less than any thought You thought, word You spoke
Formed and monogrammed by You
And so, Your grandest grandeur wrapped around
in fact reminds us of our stature and position
in Your eyes, in Your hands
how truly great we are to You
Of all You’ve made,
we are unsurpassed.
*
Poetry is very personal, both in the writing of it and a reader’s preference for it; it’s not for everyone so sharing feels vulnerable. It rarely happens that I purposely set out to write a poem; they usually just ‘fall’ or ‘land in my hands’ is the best way I can describe it, the real-time expression of place, moment, and feelings.
Gradually I’m understanding that words beautifully (or tragically) strung together is one of the ways God connects deepest with me, like a means of ‘personal prophecy’ in how He speaks. He knows I’ll be listening hard, oblivious to anything else going on around, focused on the words and the connection. There’ve been times I sat immersed with Him for hours meditating over a few measly lines… and even in the middle of those moments, I fought and declared how dumb and wasteful it is to spend so much effort on so little text. But as I flail in exasperation, His quiet wraps around and calms me as He says “It’s ok, you’re with Me; it isn’t wasted time. Just be still.” I’m learning it’s not always about the words.
This poem was Him lending verse to my silent praise as I stood enveloped in the blanket hush of snow-covered, still-snow-falling woods. My favorite line is “But You never told us that”. It actually surprised me on arrival, so direct and clear. It changed the rhythm and setting of where the poem began—from frigid snowy majesty to the lush green garden where God queried Adam, “Who told you that you were naked?” that He then answered in this poem with, “I never told you that”. The Eden garden scene is just the first instance of many where He refutes our faulty beliefs and weak arguments with “I never told you that”. The rest of the poem following that line is His loving reminder of what He never wants us to forget.