This was written in my heart on closing morning of hunting season, November 29, 2009, as I sat on top of a tall rocky ridgeline and watched the sun turn the morning clouds to a fiery red and orange overtop of endless peaks. I didn’t realize it until I had left and was driving home to get to church by 11 a.m., but God had chosen to meet me there. It wasn’t about the hunting or any activity that I do, it wasn’t about the animals or the mountains or any other part of creation… It was about me. God chose to save a poor, undeserving, miserable speck of life on the face of this earth. He chose to impart His Salvation to a wretch like me. More importantly though, He chose to do so freely and give all who will call upon His name a chance to be part of His eternal kingdom and become the apple of His eye, more precious than silver or gold, the most valuable of all that has ever been created. This then is the purpose in His great and majestic creation; to deliver our souls to Him in wonder; and to show us how great He is and how precious we are to Him all while being so insignificantly small in comparison. Psalm 8, “…When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him?...” This poem is my feeble attempt to express what I saw, heard, and experienced that morning.
This world so great yet I so small,
Mine eyes will ne’er consume it all.
His Power, His Might, His Strength displayed,
Yet we’re the reason all was made.
Clouds consumed in Holy fire,
Mountains lifted ever higher.
Breaking forth, a sunrise bright,
O’er sunlit peaks, display God’s might.
But simple words cannot express,
These scenes of beauty You have dressed.
This world so great yet I so small,
Mine eyes will ne’er consume it all.
His Power, His Might, His Strength displayed,
Yet we’re the reason all was made.
Distant cries from valleys dark,
All nature’s sounds a work of art.
A lone wolf’s howl, my heart grows still,
The whistling wind, an icy chill.
And through it all His glory grows,
The Power of God, creation shows.
This world so great yet I so small,
Mine eyes will ne’er consume it all.
His Power, His Might, His Strength displayed,
Yet we’re the reason all was made.
Mighty trees and forests strong,
In their own time will pass along.
Without a Saviour man too is found,
From dust to dust, back to the ground.
The Son, The Strength of God’s right hand,
Brought Salvation to this wretched man.
This world so great yet I so small,
Mine eyes will ne’er consume it all.
His Power, His Might, His Strength displayed,
Yet we’re the reason all was made.
Bobby Quick
11/29/2009