He is no Picasso

He paints every single blade of grass.

And stirs the wind that moves every leaf on the trees in my backyard.

They alone, don’t make a sound.

But on His command, as they motion together, they form the most beautiful song in nature.

The moon is hung on His very word.

He takes care in making every cloud billow.  Fluffs them perfectly.  And on certain days, His creativity shines even more when He takes the time to make them look like a giraffe on stilts or a frog chasing a robot.

He sits calmly at His easel at times.  Mixing new colors for sunsets.  Or a lighter hue, for today’s rainbow.

And when He is feeling feisty & wants to liven things up in this already crazy world, He will shake His mighty hands &

                                        move the earth.

   Shake the land.

                        Stir the oceans.

         Twirl the winds.

He dresses ladybugs in the most adorable polka dots.  And paints daisies in His favorite colors.

He shines every star, one by one, with His own hands.  Taking pride in their brightness.  And gives, even them, the responsibility of leading the way for wayward travelers.

He kisses the sky with every beautiful sunset that appears.  Shades of deep purple & scarlet red. 

With a single touch of His tender hands, winter turns to spring. 

He designs every snowflake & blankets His handmade mountains with millions of them.

On His command, the sun rises, tides turn, snow falls & rivers are made. 

With His brush stroke, waterfalls are created, leaves change colors & new life is made.

He is the Creator.  He is the artist.  He is the One painting the canvas.  He is no Picasso.  He created Picasso.   

All we have to do is enjoy the magic.  Appreciate the beauty.  And stand in awe of His every day masterpiece.