Fearfully and wonderfully made

I’ve just been to Yoga. It’s a wonderful reminder of how incredible the human body is. What it is capable of. The mystery of breathing. How we do it without even thinking about it. The power of breathing. Our bodies are all capable of so much more than we can begin to imagine. We are all fearfully and wonderfully made.

But as we turn our attention to the wonder of all living things in this wonderful poem from God to Job, we realise that while we are capable of so much, we will never ever come close to matching the creative genius of the one true God.

Do you hunt the prey for the lioness
and satisfy the hunger of the lions
when they crouch in their dens
or lie in wait in a thicket?
Who provides food for the raven
when its young cry out to God
and wander about for lack of food?

Do you know when the mountain goats give birth?
Do you watch when the doe bears her fawn?
Do you count the months till they bear?
Do you know the time they give birth?
They crouch down and bring forth their young;
their labour pains are ended.

Their young thrive and grow strong in the wilds;
 they leave and do not return.

Who let the wild donkey go free?
Who untied its ropes?
I gave it the wasteland as its home,
the salt flats as its habitat.
It laughs at the commotion in the town;
it does not hear a driver’s shout.
It ranges the hills for its pasture
and searches for any green thing.

Will the wild ox consent to serve you?

Will it stay by your manger at night?
Can you hold it to the furrow with a harness?
Will it till the valleys behind you?
Will you rely on it for its great strength?
Will you leave your heavy work to it?
Can you trust it to haul in your grain
 and bring it to your threshing floor?

The wings of the ostrich flap joyfully,
though they cannot compare
with the wings and feathers of the stork.

She lays her eggs on the ground
and lets them warm in the sand,
unmindful that a foot may crush them,
that some wild animal may trample them.

She treats her young harshly, as if they were not hers;
she cares not that her labour was in vain,
for God did not endow her with wisdom
or give her a share of good sense.
Yet when she spreads her feathers to run,
she laughs at horse and rider.

Do you give the horse its strength
or clothe its neck with a flowing mane?
Do you make it leap like a locust,
striking terror with its proud snorting?
It paws fiercely, rejoicing in its strength,
and charges into the fray.
It laughs at fear, afraid of nothing;
it does not shy away from the sword.
The quiver rattles against its side,
along with the flashing spear and lance.
In frenzied excitement it eats up the ground;
it cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.
At the blast of the trumpet it snorts, ‘Aha!’
It catches the scent of battle from afar,
the shout of commanders and the battle cry.

Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom
 and spread its wings toward the south?
Does the eagle soar at your command
and build its nest on high?

It dwells on a cliff and stays there at night;
a rocky crag is its stronghold.
there it looks for food;
its eyes detect it from afar.
Its young ones feast on blood,
and where the slain are, there it is.” Job 38:39-39:30