To Ponder. To Wonder.

I try to ponder
I try to wonder

I look around and I see,
I see a mass of humanity
But no one is looking at me

Waiting
Waiting for this train to stop
Waiting for the time to hop
Off this train and off to work

I try to ponder
I try to wonder

I try to gather
My intellect and my soul
To have my eyes opened to what is being made whole

This silly train,
This crowded train.
Music is being heard, but I can’t hear what they hear
I can’t know what they think
I don’t know what they feel.

I try to ponder
I try to wonder

A thought comes upon me, finally something I feel
It is simple and gentle, but it is real

Look at these people.
All colors, shapes and sizes.
Styles and mannerisms.
Each with her own iPOD, newspaper, cell phone, purse…

Each human unique with points of beauty and pain.
The beauty may be hidden but it can be found
The man gives his seat to the elderly woman.
Another calls his wife to say he’ll soon be home.
A cell phone is thrown through the doors to the one who lost it
And we all smile in approval.

I am struck by the Creator’s creativity, but then
I realize that I see so little.
I see so little, so little, just the outside, just the exterior, just the obvious

I try to ponder
I try to wonder

Man is more than his appearance on a train.
Even more than the systems of organs and cells that function inside
Even more than the molecules and atoms operating in harmony

There are souls on these trains
Something inside these brains
Hopes and fears
Fears and dreams
Dreams and reality
Pride and insecurity

The creator, how could He do it?
How could he think it, speak it, create it?

Billions of people, all made by One.
Billions of people, in the image of One.
Billions of people, all loved by this One.

I cannot fathom such love, such depth, something so BIG, so VAST

I try to ponder
I try to wonder

I turn to my left and peer out the window.
So beautiful I would pay for this show.
We have left the concrete jungle and now I see open fields.
I see grass and trees underneath a beautiful peaceful blue sky.

It looks so different, so different from what I saw when I got on this train
But I have seen God’s activity in the concrete jungle and I have seen his activity in the open fields and I have seen his activity in the sprawling suburbia that is drawing near.

Somehow He is working…
I glance to my left and see old apartments
A place that keeps two of my friends warm and safe from the rain.
A place I once lived with my new bride.
A gift as we started a life together.

I look up and see the clouds across the blue sky.
The creator knows where each cloud will go.
The creator knows if the rain will flow.
The creator tells the wind to blow.

I glance back to my immediate surroundings and I once again see faces and shoes and cell phones and newspapers and green chairs and maps on the walls and books being read…

It would be easy to say that God is not here, that He is not active, that this place is forsaken

But I must choose another way, I choose to believe something different.

I choose to believe my Creator.
I choose to believe He loves.
I choose to believe He is at work behind these pictures I see.

I choose to see Him in my ride home, a ride that allowed me the time to ponder.
I choose to see Him in the bag I use to carry my things.
I choose to see Him in the coat I found the other day.
I choose to see Him in the paper and pen that allow me to express before I forget.
I choose to see Him in the air I breathe and the lungs that work.
I choose to see Him in the sun that pierces through the clouds and finds my face.

When I get home I will see the tree planted 50 years ago and I will ponder
I will ponder this living thing
I will wonder at this my Father made
A land my Father made for us

I let myself ponder
I let myself wonder