I stopped by a little church early today.
I stopped to check directions to find my way.
I stopped and looked around at the hills of clay.
I stopped and decided to look up and pray.
On the church, there was a steeple of white.
Atop the steeple, a cross -the resting-place of a bird in flight.
A tiny bird sat on this cross at such a great height.
The steeple, the cross with the bird on top, it all seemed right.
In a tree by this church was a leaf of golden brown.
As the wind caught the leaf, it drifted to the ground.
Below a Wal-Mart bag of blue, blew round and round.
The leaf came to rest on the plastic bag, not making a sound.
In the sky above an airplane soared high,
The silver bird left white streaks behind as it did fly.
There was a cloud drifting about in the bright autumn sky.
The cloud drifted until it seemed to rest on the streak by and by.
Across the road, an abandoned building sat all alone.
Above the building were wires that once serviced lights and a phone.
The tin roof shone bright red today as the morning came to dawn.
In the past on this roof rain and snow had fallen and bright sunlight had shone.
Early today I thought about the wooden cross and the plastic sack.
I thought of the bird, the leaf, the cloud, and the sun as I looked back.
I thought of the streaks made from smoking gas and the roof made from tin.
I thought of how God’s creations had come to rest on the creations of men.
Right before my eyes, God and man’s creations seem to have met:
As on the cross on the steeple, the little bird had set,
As the fluffy white cloud floating in the sky,
Came to rest on the airplane streak by and by,
As the leaf of golden brown,
Landed on the blue Wal-Mart sack on the ground,
As the morning sun did shine its light,
On the tin roof of the old building ever so bright.
God’s creations always seem to rest on man’s
In all things, man creates we can see God’s hand.
Long ago God’s perfect creation came down to earth.
Long ago the Son of God through a virgin was birthed.
He lived and walked about as a mortal man.
He felt pain and joy; it was all God’s plan.
He lived as man until the age of thirty-three.
He lived as man until it was time for Him to set all men free.
God’s creation came to rest on something made of man,
A man-made cross was lifted, fulfilling God’s plan.
Man shouted, "Guilty," as he drove each man-made nail,
Jesus cried, "Forgive them, Father," don’t let them go to Hell.
When Jesus was hanging on the cross did a bird fly by?
Do you think the bird might have stopped to ask the Creator why?
When Jesus hung His head and looked down,
Do you think a golden leaf might have drifted to the ground?
When He lifted His head to look to the sky,
Do you think a fluffy white cloud might have floated by?
When He was abandoned in that tomb so dark and cold,
Do you think bright sunlight shined in ever so bold?
When I look around at all the things man has done,
I know they are nothing compared to God sending His Son.
His creation is perfect in every way,
Man should spend more time looking up to pray.
He comes now to rest in the heart of all that call,
He will always hold us tightly never letting us fall.
He keeps us flying ever so high as His Spirit inside does soar;
He keeps His light shining each day in our hearts more and more.