The many venues of God’s creation speak different dialects. Atop mountains, the majesty of His grandeur envelops me . . . amidst forests, I sense a harmonious peace . . . and standing on an ocean beach, my infinitesimal smallness.
Here’s but a glimpse of the humbling and comforting dialect wind, surf and sunrise spoke to my soul, assured that in the incomprehensible vastness of the universe . . . I matter to Him . . . Who literally loved me to death on a cross.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!
Abba's Art 
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