In his book, “Story“, Steven James writes:

You clothe yourself with daylight.
You wrap the stars around your waist.
Crickets chirp from the folds of your garments,
Grizzlies growl from the deep pockets of your evening robe.
Where do you set me upon yourself?
Am I an earring, dangling in the moonlight?
Am I a necklace, flashing by your breast?
Where do you slip me on?
Where do I fit into your tale?
And how do you wear so many of us at once?

Within me, a familiar, programmed response arises: how can this majestic God care for me?

It defies all sense – all systems of sorting and evaluating and assigning value that we have learned since we were young. And I wish that it was wonder and awe and curiosity and delight that rises up within me to set me dancing wide-armed and wild-eyed within the spaciousness of this new day, but instead, it is the accumulated guilt and shame, failures and rejections, criticisms and judgments of all the years that keep me stiff and stone-hearted within the measures of hours and minutes.

We are not worthy. Look only at what we have done with the creation that God has entrusted into our hands. See what we do with our authority. Consider how we treat our enemies. We are not worthy. This has been the mantra of Western Christianity, particularly for a long, long time. 

Yet, perhaps, just perhaps, today might offer a different perspective, inspire you to sing a different song in your soul for a moment: You are the work of God’s fingers. God’s majestic name fills you. God crowns you with glory and magnificence. When people look at you, they see God’s beauty on display.

So, a prayer:

God of the distant stars and the newborn child,
you have opened our eyes that we might see your glory
not just in the extraordinary,
but in the everyday signs of your life and your presence
with and within us.
Help us to live as people full of wonder and amazement
so that we can pay full attention
– to you and to the needs of your wonderful world. 
May your work shape the dignity and compassion of my work today.
Amen.