As I See It

Lately I have found myself less annoyed. More pressed for time, but less annoyed. Busier than usual, but still, less annoyed. Under normal circumstances, the impending political upheaval(and yeah, I believe we should brace for a serious fruit basket turnover), rush of the approaching holiday season, and general, all-around ugly state of the world, would have me bitching without taking a breath.

So what if Newsweek decided to post a blatantly skeptical article about Sarah Palin’s often radical religious beliefs (Palin Believes), with much focus on her apocalyptic views and being spoken to by the Holy Spirit? Yeah, who cares that now, more than ever, the church needs to rise up, not as a bunch of flaky people who seem to have their heads in the sand, but as the body of Christ operating as a righteous example? What does it matter that everywhere you look there is resentment and anger, even in the supposed safety of the Church itself?

Truthfully none of this really is worthy of annoyance, because God is grand, faithful, and evident, and without this knowledge I would probably be somewhere beating my head repeatedly against a wall. I am not saying that we should ignore it, but I am suggesting to find a way to see through it.

Last week my husband, my family, some friends, and myself were at the Grand Canyon. None of us, excepting my mom who had gone when she was ten, had seen the Canyon in any other way than photographs or movies. Upon our arrival we were met with a sight that most descriptive words could not encompass in there tininess, since they were created from the limited understanding of human thinking. There was an awe, yes at the great divide that created a tear in the fabric of the Earth before us, but more at the brilliant, inspiring power of our God.

I told Nathan at one point, looking over the rim and sensing my own heart pounding rapidly at the sight, “How could someone not believe in a creative God when viewing this?”. There was an urgency in my body to propell myself off the rim, or at least stand at the very edge. “I must not miss anything”, I thought to myself. In reality, there was no way I could see it all or understand how massively expansive and dangerously beautiful it was. My mind couldn’t wrap around it.

Just as my mind cannot wrap around the one who created it. God created an earth that is so stunning and wonderful, and yet he concerns himself with us. If you look at all he has done, stand in awe for a moment, because he created you too. I say earth before, not world, because the world is where the mire and muck resides. It is where what God planned and intended has been uglied by the enemies nasty designs. But, somehow, God is in that too, shedding a light when we walk through it.

Which brings me to this moment, where we have to have eyes to see beyond the bad weather of the current world climate. God is faithful and good. He gives and he takes away. He remembers promises. It was important for me to see the Canyon, go out on a ledge and trust my savior that it wasn’t my time to parish. To stand close to something that so represented His indescribable vastness and my own wonder at Him, and to be afraid, but exhilarated.

I may have never known the affect it would have on me to see the Canyon had I never gone, but I know now where I am because of it. There are inevitable times in life when you look around and realize that you are having an experience. Not an experience that just resides in your memory as, “Oh, that one time I ate really good French food” or “That time we built sandcastles at Destine”, both enjoyable, but not altering; an experience that digs deep into your spirit and reminds you that, yes, you are alive and not alone. An experience that changes the way you have previously viewed yourself or your world.

It wasn’t just the Canyon, the fear of falling fast into it, or the beauty of it alone, but that I was willing to open myself to whatever God had to do with me there. To push myself to go out and dangle my feet over. It was the awareness that even in a world where death is prevalent, silver linings few, and the consensus that hell is closing in isn’t an uncommon one, God is still grand. God is still making miracles.

It is a miracle in itself to be able to stand in one place and not need to move. It is a miracle to be able to capture a moment, despite what goes on around you. But more than that it is a miracle to realize you can never fully understand God, all His facets, colors, textures. Like the Canyon, you don’t need to see Him all, to know He is greater than you and to rest in the knowledge of that.

Remember that when you grow leery of the stock market, or wonder where the money for the bills is going to come from, God created the heavens and the earth and still knows your name. He is not like us, He does not get distracted, or too busy. His hand can carve a canyon in the earth, He knows how it all works and is not surprised by anything. He knew the elements in the water and wind would erode the earth just right, to create something so beautiful I am left breathless. It is not a simple task to be the Creator, but still He never tires.