When is the last time you just sat in silence and marveled at a sunrise or sunset? 

When’s the last time you closed your eyes and listened to the breeze whistle through the trees and the birds sing their magnificent songs?

When’s the last time you soaked in the exuberance of a child’s laugh and watch their eyes sparkle as they play in innocent joy?

Have you ever soaked in the radiant colors of the flower or let a cool spring rain wash over you, refreshing your spirit?

Most importantly, in all these things, when is the last time you stopped, opened your heart in the stillness, and worshiped the majesty of the One who spoke this all into existence?

The Lord says through the Psalmist, “Be still and know that I am God, I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” (Psalm 46:10, ESV) It’s always been one of the most difficult instructions for me to obey.

I suspect, up until recently, that’s probably been true for most of us. In some ways, I think maybe our overloaded to-do lists became an object of worship, instead of taking the time to really slow down and ponder the majesty of our Creator and Savior.

But seemingly in an instant every check mark on our list, every “crucial” item on our calendars, nearly everything that previously occupied our time in this connected society was, at least temporarily, gone.

More than once lately, I’ve been reminded of the opening lyrics of a song that came out when I was in college:

“When the music fades/ All is stripped away/ And I simply come/ Longing just to bring/ Something that’s of worth/ That will bless Your heart” (Original recording by Matt Redman, “Revival Generation: I Could Sing Of Your Love Forever,” 1999)

It makes me think ... how often do I simply bring myself before Jesus in all my brokenness, instead of simply a long list of all the stuff I got done or want to get done?

While serving Him faithfully with our time, our talents, and our resources is a crucial part of our relationship with Jesus, these things become “as worthless rags” as Paul calls it, if we do not first bring Him our broken hearts.

After all, it’s our hearts He desires. It’s our hearts He bled and died to rescue from the endless burdens and cares of the world. 

And this is the crucial truth when we marvel at His creation. As marvelous as all His handiwork is, He treasures our hearts above it all.

David marvels when he writes, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor.” (Psalm 8:3-5, ESV)

So the next time you look at the sun, or listen to the birds, or feel the rain, just slow down, take it all in and remember to worship.

Because when all is stripped away, your heart of worship is His greatest treasure.

Your heart is what He came to save.

Daniel Kiewel is a reporter with the Great Bend Tribune. He can be reached at dkiewel@gbtribune.com.