Psalm 92:4 – For thou, Lord, hast made me glad through thy work: I will triumph in the works of thy hands.
Towering high on the hilltop, the belfry of the Benedictine Monastery just seems to beckon you towards its place of peace and quiet.
The monks don't mind you meandering their meadows, savouring the sights and sounds which grace their grounds. Rhododendrons, daisies, bleeding hearts and wildflowers all flourish in the lush lay of the land. Soft sacks of human hair hang on the branches of bushes and trees. They tell me the deer are repelled by the hair. It seems to work, for nothing appears to be nibbled.
A little grave rests under the protection of a willow tree, alive with the drone of many bees in competition with the raceway in the valley below. As you stroll along the pebbled pathway towards the viewpoint overlooking the valley, you pass through the peace and quiet, broken by the clickety-clack of the tourists, and the train on the tracks below.
I am reminded that everything comes through God. The peace and quiet, every tree, every flower, and yes, everything that passes through the peace and quiet. For He creates the tourists and the bees that drone; and He gives us the knowledge for the technology, to build the trains and race cars. These are the works of His hands, and He has made me glad.
Prayer: We give thanks, Oh Lord, for all your works, and we will glorify the works of thy hands. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen.
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