A few weeks ago, Sue and I drove up the California coast from San Jose all the way up into Oregon. Along the way, we stood and walked and rested in the glory of God’s creation. The first half day of driving, north of San Francisco, it seemed like we were pulling into every single scenic view parking lot we encountered on the Pacific Coast Highway. We were so struck with the beauty of waves crashing into rock, so reminded of the power and dominion of the Creator.
Further north, we stopped the car on the side of a road that cut through Redwood National and State Parks. We got out, stretched our legs and looked up (and up and up) staring in utter amazement at the height and breadth and glory of these organisms that have stood witness to more than a thousand years of history and growth. We walked a hiking trail among them for several hours, slowly and resolutely and gratefully treading ground that felt ancient and holy, as is every acre of this planet.
After crossing into Oregon and hugging the coast for a few days, we headed east to visit the natural and incredible beauty of Crater Lake, which I had only seen in books and magazines. Nothing prepared us for our first glimpse, walking up a small incline from a parking lot, for the perfectly pristine and almost unreal blue of the lake, formed by a collapsed volcano 7,700 years ago. Later, we sat above another rise by the lake, resting in creation and amazed by the silence, the color, the grandeur of it all.
Over and over, we couldn’t help but sense the divine presence of our still-creating Creator. To those who do not believe in the role of a Creator, all I can say is that I see no other way, no reason or purpose for the beauty of it all without the moving and loving hand of “something else” bringing light, life and order. In the beginning (and in the end), everything in me screams, “there must be something else.” And I will rest in that.
In the beginning, God. That’s all.
Then standing, his smile wide with promise
the Creator begins the ritual building
the story we now repeat around the fire
not a wild and violent tale
but a gentle voice and hand
urging and molding all into life and light.
The ritual revealed form and purpose:
no mere architect
but artist and lover
a child playing in the dirt
creating love in his mind and finding it good
breathing his own breath into it
walking with this new life
in the cool and breezy part of the day
when the great light lowers itself into dry land.
Not content with just creating
the Creator decides to love those to whom he gave dominion
searches us out when we hide
sews garments to cover our shame.
And we live in this abundance of love still.
Today, whether restless or satisfied,
we rest in it, still.
