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?"
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.