Everywhere across the land
You see God’s face and touch His hand
Each time you look up in the sky
Or watch the fluffy clouds drift by,
Or feel the sunshine, warm and bright,
Or watch the dark night turn to light,
Or hear a bluebird brightly sing,
Or see the winter turn to spring,
Or stop to pick a daffodil,
Or gather violets on some hill,
Or touch a leaf or see a tree,
It’s all God whispering, “This is Me.
And I am faith and I am light
And in Me there shall be no night.”
Each day at dawning I lift my heart high
And raise up my eyes to the infinite sky.
I watch the night vanish as a new day is born,
And I hear the birds sing on the wings of the morn.
I see the dew glisten in crystal-like splendor
While God, with a touch that is gentle and tender,
Wraps up in the night and softly tucks it away
And hangs out the sun to herald a new day.
And so I give thanks and my heart kneels to pray,
“God, keep me and guide me and go with me today.”
Framed by the vast, unlimited sky,
Bordered by mighty waters,
Sheltered by beautiful woodland groves,
Scented with flowers that bloom and die,
Protected by giant mountain peaks—
The land of the great unknown—
Snowcapped and towering, a nameless place
That beckons man on as the gold he seeks,
Bubbling with life and earthly joys,
Reeking with pain and mortal strife,
Dotted with wealth and material gains,
Built on ideals of girls and boys,
Streaked with toil, opportunity’s banner unfurled
Stands out the masterpiece of art
Painted by the one great God,
A picture of the world.
I’ve never seen God, but I know how I feel;
It’s people like you who make Him so real.
My God is no stranger—He’s so friendly each day,
And He doesn’t ask me to weep when I pray.
It seems that I pass Him so often each day
In the faces of people I meet on my way.
He’s the stars in the heavens, a smile on some face,
A leaf on a tree or a rose in a vase.
He’s winter and autumn and summer and spring
In short, God is every real, wonderful thing.
I wish I might meet Him much more than I do;
I wish there were more people like you.
You ask me how I know it’s true
that there is a living God.
A God who rules the universe—
the sky, the sea, the sod—
A God who holds all creatures
in the hollow of His hand,
A God who put infinity in one tiny grain of sand,
A God who made the seasons—
winter, summer, fall, and spring—
And put His flawless rhythm into each created thing,
A God who hangs the sun out slowly
with the break of day
And gently takes the stars in and puts the night away,
A God whose mighty handiwork defies the skill of man,
For no architect can alter God’s perfect master plan.
What better answers are there to prove His holy being
Than the wonders all around us
that are ours just for the seeing.
Flowers sleeping ’neath the snow,
Awakening when the spring winds blow,
Leafless trees so bare before
Gowned in lacy green once more,
Hard, unyielding, frozen sod
Now softly carpeted by God,
Still streams melting in the spring,
Rippling over rocks that sing,
Barren, windswept, lonely hills
Turning gold with daffodils—
These miracles are all around
Within our sight and touch and sound,
As true and wonderful today
As when the stone was rolled away,
Proclaiming to all doubting men
That in God all things live again.
April comes with cheeks a-glowing
Silver streams are all a-flowing,
Flowers open wide their eyes
In lovely rapturous surprise.
Lilies dream beside the brooks,
Violets in meadow nooks,
And the birds gone wild with glee
Fill the woods with melody.
The rainbow is God’s promise
of hope for you and me,
And though the clouds hang heavy
and the sun we cannot see,
We know above the dark clouds
that fill the stormy sky
Hope’s rainbow will come shining through
when the clouds have drifted by.
Springtime is a season of hope and joy and cheer—
There’s beauty all around us to see and touch and hear.
So no matter how downhearted
and discouraged we may be,
New hope is born when we behold
leaves budding on a tree
Or when we see a timid flower
push through the frozen sod
And open wide in glad surprise
its petaled eyes to God.
For this is just God saying, “Lift up your eyes to Me,
And the bleakness of your spirit,
like the budding springtime tree,
Will lose its wintry darkness
and your heavy heart will sing.”
For God never sends the winter
without the joy of spring.
God is no stranger in a faraway place
He’s as close as the wind that blows ’cross my face.
It’s true I can’t see the wind as it blows,
But I feel it around me and my heart surely knows
That God’s mighty hand can be felt everywhere,
For there’s nothing on earth that is not in God’s care.
The sky and the stars, the waves and the sea,
The dew on the grass, the leaves on a tree
Are constant reminders of God and His nearness
Proclaiming His presence with crystal-like clearness.
So how could I think God was far, far away
When I feel Him beside me every hour of the day?
And I’ve plenty of reasons to know God’s my friend,
And this is one friendship that time cannot end.
All nature heeds the call of spring
As God awakens everything,
And all that seemed so dead and still
Experiences a sudden thrill
As springtime lays a magic hand
Across God’s vast and fertile land.
Oh, the joy in standing by
To watch a sapphire springtime sky
Or see a fragile flower break through
What just a day ago or two
Seemed barren ground still hard with frost,
For in God’s world, no life is lost,
And flowers sleep beneath the ground,
But when they hear spring’s waking sound,
They push themselves through layers of clay
To reach the sunlight of God’s day.
And man and woman, like flowers, too, must sleep
Until called from the darkened deep
To live in that place where angels sing
And where there is eternal spring.
Apple blossoms bursting wide now beautify a tree
And make a springtime picture that is beautiful to see.
Oh fragrant, lovely blossoms,
you’ll make a bright bouquet
If I but break your branches
from the apple tree today,
But if I but break your branches
and make your beauty mine,
You’ll bear no fruit in season
when severed from the vine,
And when we cut ourselves away
from guidance that’s divine,
Our lives will be as fruitless as
the branch without the vine.
For as the flowering branches depend upon the tree
To nourish and fulfill them till they reach futurity,
We, too, must be dependent on our Father up above,
For we are but the branches, and He’s the tree of love.
Silently the green leaves grow,
In silence falls the soft, white snow,
Silently the flowers bloom,
In silence sunshine fills a room.
Silently bright stars appear,
In silence velvet night draws near,
And silently God enters in
To free a troubled heart from sin.