5AM. Fade to black. The countdown clock begins, set to the tune of encompassing silence.

My eyes adjust and gradually register thousands of light specks rigged overhead. Anticipation settles in my bones. Three, two, one, zero: cue the entrance of a thin orange light, its subtle glow casting bluish-purple hues to the space above, gently erasing the light specks and patiently revealing the grandest stage, the most stunning design, every element with nothing to prove, simply born out of the passion of the Creator.

A Sunday morning like never before. The silence and sounds, the sights and smells, the imposing darkness and gentle ascent of light, the experience of time passing in a monumental production. My soul’s response to the accompanying atmospheric effects, to the heightened awareness of Creator, and the depths, the vastness, the mystery of all that He is, and that I am.

Considering myself, my humanity, insignificantly small, microscopic at best, and yet incomprehensibly significant because somehow I’ve been cast in this epic piece. A developing character, cheered and jeered, broken and repaired, constantly evolving. Self aware. My chest sinks and swells as I lose and catch my breath repeatedly. Tears shimmer down my cheek reflecting the radiant horizon.

A speckled squirrel gazes over the canyon edge taking pause to acknowledge this dramatic reveal.

“Wonders of nature sing praises to you.”

“But ask the animals, and they will teach you,

or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you;

or speak to the earth, and it will teach you,

or let the fish in the sea inform you.

Which of all these does not know

that the hand of the Lord has done this?

In his hand is the life of every creature

and the breath of all mankind.

Job 12:7-10

My Grand Canyon experience was unexpected and yet timely. I’ve recounted it nearly every day since my visit. The gift of the moment was fully received.

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Recently I had lunch with a dear friend. We’ve been close since childhood and after years of living in different states are able to often connect in person. We talked about how God reveals Himself in nature, and therein also reveals some of who we are as humans. As an artist might portray reflections and interpretations of her emotive state, her experiences, her stories, the essence of what she believes, what she loves, what she battles, and who she is, so has God in His body of work. His creation.

When we struggle to make sense of life, or how God acts, where do we go? Where can we turn? Can we find can find comfort and unique understanding of Him in His creation? Why do we often say, “I just need to take a walk outside”? I think that our most innate self is yearning to be in full awareness and presence of the place that reveals His knowledge and is “full of His unfailing love” (Psalm 33:5).

“The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words; 

no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.”

Psalm 19:1-4

His written word hasn’t always been, but His creation has stood as testimony and display of His love, his story. His purpose in it goes beyond revelation, of course, but in moments of life it seems to bring a peace and an understanding that words cannot deliver. But then, even when we find words, we use nature to describe how we feel – we see it in music, prose, and poetry – the Psalms. We set creation to rhyme and meter, mimicking our life’s pulse. Our hearts are oceans, our dark places are valleys, our secrets are buried in caverns, our risks leave us standing on the edge, our blessings flow as rivers, our brokenness forms canyons between us and others, our dried out spirits are deserts, our successes are mountaintops . . . these sentiments often best understood through the gift of creation.

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Quick observations from Grand Canyon.

At the Grand Canyon beauty is everywhere. Flowers and trees sprout out of cracks and crags.

At the Grand Canyon the animals appear completely peaceful. I saw it in their eyes.

At the Grand Canyon people come from all over the world to experience something.

At the Grand Canyon you cannot help but to notice the sedimentary rock layers formed over time. Layers upon layers upon layers of time.

Trust forms in layers. It is security and sanctuary pressed in deep.

Hurt forms in layers. It can bury a pure spirit with pain and bitterness, forming hardened layers of self preservation, and fossilzing the hurt.

Forgiveness between humans often comes in layers. That first layer blankets the pain, but it may take many layers, seasons, or eras to fully disintegrate the hurt.

I saw resolve in these layers though. I observed how rains had fallen on jagged rocks and smoothed them out over time. The layers remain as scars, but further damaging effects are gone. Time had smoothed the jagged edges. Pray for the peacemaking rains.

At the Grand Canyon you indeed notice the trails and the tremendous scale of the land. In those I saw my life on display. It was beautiful at a glance, but full of difficulty when zeroing in on the paths. Wrongs turns were easy to make, you had to stick to the path carved out to stay safe. It wasn’t fool proof, but the parameters were solid guides. The immediate thought of going it alone seemed overwhelming – where would I go if I was hurt, how would I find my way if I got lost? But with God speaking to my heart and Josh standing by my side, it seemed less daunting. Josh and I began to talk about returning to the trails with a plan, how we would prepare, and what it would take to reach the other side. What looked treacherous now seemed like a treasure hunt. What looked adversary quickly became an adventure. What looked frightening became a place where courage builds up in our chest and we take that leap of faith.

And again, the scale of it all.

I remember standing on the ocean several years ago as it roared and feeling so small, yet fully enlightened to the vastness of God. I had that same feeling at the Grand Canyon. All of his qualities and attributes are GRANDER than all of this. All of this combined! His love, His power, His grace, His forgiveness, His mercy, His HOPE . . . and yet I constantly rely on myself to overcome.

God, help me to see and hear you EVERYWHERE. Beyond the buildings and facades, beyond the concrete jungle, beyond the brick walls of my home, beyond the windshield, beyond the noise of life. May I find myself increasingly eager to head outside and find You more and more. 

I cannot ignore You. You are everywhere. There You are.

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen,  being understood from what has been made . . .”

Romans 1:20

These are simple thoughts and observations from a few hours in this place. Where have you been where you overwhelmingly felt the presence of God or experienced Him uniquely? I’d love to hear!

Love and peace to you, all.