Not just amazement at the everyday eye of a poppy, or the flash of glass-green as a wave breaks; not merely saluting blue—the infinite cover over us—but the power of beauty to arrest even the most important activity. Like no other, beauty forces us to stop.
A lovely woman.
Water falling.
A perfect baby.
There is stillness and inevitable staring.
A lovely woman.
Water falling.
A perfect baby.
There is stillness and inevitable staring.
A blind woman’s hand feels the words, and then pauses…
Oh, the perfect irony that the blind can see beauty
or that stillness can shout the glory of creation.
or that stillness can shout the glory of creation.
What kind of God creates a curiosity like beauty—ineffable, untouchable, unaffected by us and yet, at times, made by us and then destroyed by us?
Can beauty be so fragile as to be destroyed? Or does it merely slip from view?
Try to imagine a world without it. Ahh. Beauty: our greatest comfort.
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The thing I find odd is the places beauty shows up in. Picture the 80 year old man on his knees, crying out in anguish over the death of his wife of 60 years. Do you see the beauty? Or the mother laying on that hospital bed, cradling her dying child. Do you see the beauty? Beauty that sneeks in even in the most tragic moments.
Isn't it some reassurance, or down-payment on heaven? Even when all the world falls apart the sun still rises and sets in vibrant color, plants pulse with photosynthesis, rain and cloud and sun stubbornly continue their counterpoint. Loveliness to hold us.
My favorite line: "Beauty: our greatest comfort."
I'm not able to imagine a world without it.
Thank you for the reminder to notice it. REALLY notice it. To the point that it forces me to pause. And be encouraged by it.