Truest Beauty from the Finest Artist of All

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In my book, this has been one of Michigan's loveliest autumns. The weather has been comfortably cool without being too cold, and the trees have been such brilliant hues of red ...

A maple near my office in Walker, Michigan. (Photo: Rachel E. Watson)

yellow ...

The tree in my front yard. (Photo: Rachel E. Watson)

and all the colors of the spectrum ...

Trees along M-46 between Lakeview and Edmore. (Photo: Becky Howard)

It makes me want to take time out to confess that of all the fine art I could possibly enjoy and celebrate in this world, whether it's music, poetry, film, literature, painting or other visual arts, none of them could exist were it not for the Creator by whose power the universe was formed.

And who can top the beauty in His world?

Today, while I was walking on the trail that cuts through my office park, a strong wind rushed through the trees and set them to swaying, and a golden brown leaf tornado spun up from the ground as I watched.

In that moment, hymns began playing, one after another, in the symphony of my mind. These are the hymns I heard:

"For the Beauty of the Earth"

For the beauty of the earth,

For the glory of the skies,

For the love which from our birth

Over and around us lies;

Lord of all, to thee we raise

This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the beauty of each hour

Of the day and of the night,

Hill and vale, and tree and flower,

Sun and moon, and stars of light;

Lord of all, to thee we raise

This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of human love,

Brother, sister, parent, child,

Friends on earth and friends above,

For all gentle thoughts and mild;

Lord of all, to thee we raise

This our hymn of grateful praise.

"This Is My Father's World"

This is my Father's world,

And to my listening ears

All nature sings, and round me rings

The music of the spheres.

This is my Father's world:

I rest me in the thought

Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;

His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father's world,

The birds their carols raise,

The morning light, the lily white,

Declare their maker's praise.

This is my Father's world:

He shines in all that's fair;

In the rustling grass I hear him pass;

He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father's world.

O let me ne'er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong,

God is the ruler yet.

This is my Father's world:

The battle is not done

Jesus who died shall be satisfied

And earth and heaven be one.

"How Great Thou Art"

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, How great thou art!

When through the woods and forest glades I wander
I hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees,
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur,
And hear the brook and feel a gentle breeze:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, How great thou art!

I'm so thankful for Creator God, the finest artist, the best composer, The Word Who Became Flesh.

Read more posts in the Fine Art Friday series here.

About Post Author

Rachel E. Watson

I think, read and write. I might mull on music, spin original poems, share insights or tell stories, but you can be sure whatever you read here comes from a thoughtful and considered place within.

Rachel E. Watson