The Grand Canyon - A Grand Reminder That We Were All Created To Create

Arizona 2017 - Part I

Immediately after arriving at the south rim of the Grand Canyon, we saw the scene above. I scrambled for my camera and snapped this picture of a man standing uncomfortably close to one of the deepest and most abrupt drop-offs I'd ever seen. When I took the picture I wondered, "what is he doing?" Later, awed by the picture that filled the computer screen in front of me, I couldn't help but wonder something different. I wondered, "what was he thinking?" I don't mean that in the crazy "what in God's name was he thinking" sort of way, but looking out over miles of canyon, from his special and momentarily isolated point of view, "what exactly was he thinking?"

Was he like me, at a loss for words but overwhelmed with thoughts? Thoughts connecting the majesty of what he was absorbing to a God who loves little more than stirring our imaginations with his creation. Was he moved by God's power? His ability to carve sculptures deep into the earth using nothing but a whisper and a river. Maybe he was staring out through God's eyes, awed by His ability to see and plan for the very grains of sand and rocks he'd wash away, leaving behind nothing but breathtaking layers of colors and shapes.
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​I wondered if this man was seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time like my son Elliott? Granted, Elliott's position was a little less dare devil, but it was no less prone to stirring. I'm not sure there's anything more prone to stirring than a child's imagination as he takes his first look at the Grand Canyon?

​In his book, Last Child in the Woods, Richard Louv writes about the consequences that threaten our kids as they spend less time in nature. One of those consequences is a dying imagination. Louv believes that as a child looks out over a site like the Grand Canyon, they begin to imagine in layers deeper than a simple look at a photo or a video trapped inside a computer screen or television. They imagine water running down a mountainside and into a valley miles upstream and building to a roar as it carves its way into the image at hand. And then they wonder: where did it all begin?​

Psalm 19:1-6 says the following:

The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
​Day to day pours out speech,
and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words,
whose voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.
In them he has set a tent for the sun,
​which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
and, like a strong man, runs it course with joy.
Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
and its circuit to the end of them,
​and there is nothing hidden from its heat.

I believe wonder is what gives birth to spirituality. When we hear the voice that goes out through all the earth, the words that go to the end of the world - we wonder. 

​I heard that voice often at the Grand Canyon. It's been a long time since I heard it louder. And it's not like it was a deep, booming shout. Not at all really. It was more like a gentle call. But as I felt myself being drawn nearer to the voice, it felt loud indeed.

​Do you know what makes the voice feel so loud at the Grand Canyon? There are few places on earth where God's creativity is showcased on a grander stage. Standing with God on that stage, I contemplated just how much we ourselves are designed to create. How much - deep inside - we all long to create something that captures the world's attention, makes it a better place. Whether it's writing a blog post, snapping a photo or drawing a picture, creating a business or a lesson plan, cooking a special dinner for our family or tending to a beautiful garden, on and on it goes. We are all driven to create. I suppose in some cases we create to be noticed, but I think for the most part we create to be appreciated. We want to link ourselves to a world wide web of mutual appreciation.

​Feeling that way, and seeing it from that stage, why wouldn't I be awed by a God that above all uses his own creation to capture our attention. Why wouldn't my conversations with God be most intimate standing on the edge of the world, or at least what certainly felt like it, looking out over the handiwork of the ultimate creator in a world of creators.

​I'm not really sure what that man was thinking as I snapped my picture, but I'm grateful he was there. I'm grateful that for just a second, he was a special feature in a creation God used to talk to me, to draw me ever nearer to Him.

I am grateful for a family that loves capturing images with more than their imaginations.

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But I have no doubt the most majestic of imaginations is behind the images.

The Grand Canyon. The views are infinite, the conversations run their course with joy.

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