There is no speech, nor are there words;

their voice is not heard;

yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.

Psalm 19: 3-4, NRSV

A blue jay landed on my back window ledge last night, clicking his feet against the screen and cocking his head. No words, but the request was clear: fill up the feeder, please. The jade plant out back started drooping a few days back – too much rainwater had gathered in the bottom of the pot and needed draining. A cacophony in the trees begins, then moves to the shrubs and trees in the neighboring yards: all kinds of birds raising the alarm because an owl or hawk is near by.

None of these instances involve words or discernible speech, but the message was as clear as if spoken in perfect English. If such as these are clear, how can the diversity of life on this planet be any less understood: None of this is self-made. All of this has a creator.

Lord, open my eyes, ears, hands, and mind to all that you have made, all that you are making, and all that is to come. Amen.

 Minot Trail, photo by Jared Fredrickson