A book without words

15 Jun

helping hand


I“read” about God every day. I meet him in this page-less, wordless “book.” There are no pictures, but beautiful colors – brilliant reds, soft blues, blushing pinks, shy grays, bold blacks and glorious greens.

God is there, in this “book,” in all of nature.

This morning, I sat in my office, gazing out the window, struggling with ideas for another writing project. Nothing seemed to fit; nothing seemed to make sense.

Gradually, I began to “see” the book. Outside my office windows is a stairway going up to the two apartments above. Beyond the stairway I noticed the roof of the garage next door,  all soft orange and soft gray tiles. And beyond and above the garage were the leaves and limbs of a huge oak tree. This rising sun, from behind our apartments, was shining on several limbs – sort of a heavy tan, not quite brown – so awash were they in the sun’s brilliant light.

I noticed on those limbs small blotches of white, almost like irregular and random polka dots. They were just there, apparently of no consequence – but these dots were alive, just resting on the giant oak limbs, gaining sustenance as is the nature of fungi (or funguses, if you prefer).

And above and through the trees is the gentle blue of a sky that has no end to its depth.

In this “book,” I see all of humanity and the Creator of all things “visible and invisible.”

  • The stairway is a reminder that we must always rise above the mire and confusion which seem, at times, to weigh us down.
  • The garage roof suggests the shelter we have in God’s providential love.
  • The leaves and limbs of the oak tree remind me of life just bursting all over the place, life totally dependent on the way God created things – and God, the creating and sustaining force that roots that tree into life-giving earth.
  • The fungi are like so many people, totally dependent for support and sustenance on the stronger elements of our society – the poor, alienated, disenfranchised, and especially, those who live with weak or no faith in God.

Finally, the gentle blue and its expanse remind me of God – no beginning and no end, so complete in himself that he cannot contain his divine energy, an energy so generous and powerful that it gently and ceaselessly creates the sky, the earth, the trees and all things – including you, including me.


3 Responses to “A book without words”

  1. bertghezzi@cfl.rr.com June 15, 2013 at 8:24 pm #

    Super–save this one for your collection


  2. Lilli Winstead June 19, 2013 at 6:19 pm #

    Mr. Libersat,
    I think that must fast a lot because you are so open to the enlightment of the Holy Spirit. How beautiful your reflection on nature; how close to God we are. If we just take time for the silence.

    • Henry Libersat June 23, 2013 at 1:55 pm #

      Dear Lilli Winstead, more to the point is one of my favorite Scripture passages, namely, Numbers 22:22-33. If he ca
      n uses that donkey, maybe he can use me, too. Thanks for commenting. God bless you!

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