Worship, Like Air

"It looks like fur! Or feathers! Branches! Or trees!" my kids exclaimed.  It looked like it all, and all at once.  As we watched, the sun kept rising over our house, moving slowly over the surface of the car, melting all the beautiful frost away in just moments. But even the melting was wondrous.  I don't exaggerate when I say it was one of the most breathtaking things I've ever seen. It was completely natural and oh, so fleeting.  A human could refine his craft for a lifetime then pass all he knows on to his child. Then his child could work for a lifetime and not even come close to the kind of innate, inanimate skill and artistry that formed this masterpiece overnight and then vanished in the briefest moments of light.  Nature is fraught with the glory of its God.  And it hints at something dreadful, that in our whole lifetime, with our eyes wide open, we can only begin to have the briefest conception of how glorious God will be in His heaven. Standing there, in touch with God's glory, feeling the frigid air go in and out of my lungs, and seeing my breath go up as vapor, I realized that in heaven, worship will be the most natural thing we do. Surrounded by God's glory like this everywhere, it'll be as easy as breathing. Worship will go in and out of us like air.