


The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;— Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune ....That first part of the poem laments the mess we've created for ourselves in a consumer-driven world where everything is about materialism and getting and getting while wasting the beauty of the natural world. Although written around 1802, this poem resonates with me today. I've been guilty of watching "nature" programs on TV instead of going outside. What a statement of the times. I'm blessed to have friends who can execute the occasional intervention. The pull nature has on me is part of the natural order of things, an opportunity to worship God in His creation.
Nothing exists that does not owe its existence to God the Creator. The world began when God's word drew it out of nothingness; all existent beings, all of nature, and all human history are rooted in this primordial even, the very genesis by which the world was constituted and time begun. (CCC 338)

Copyright 2019 Maria Morera Johnson
About the Author

Maria Morera Johnson
Maria Morera Johnson, author of My Badass Book of Saints, Super Girls and Halo, and Our Lady of Charity: How a Cuban Devotion to Mary Helped Me Grow in Faith and Love writes about all the things that she loves. A cradle Catholic, she struggles with living in the world but not being of it, and blogs about those successes and failures, too.
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