Standing on the south rim of the Grand Canyon just a few weeks ago, I watched the setting sun splash its light against the ancient red walls of the canyon, aware that all this beauty was created by the destructive force of the Colorado River over millions of years. The continuous flow of water over stone created this natural wonder of the world. From erosion comes beauty and new life.
We spend the first halves of our lives growing and gathering — families, friends, careers, financial stability. All good things. But we are also aware as we grow older that things are slowly eroding around us, a flood of undercurrents and losses that can leave us speechless and hanging on for our lives. We watch as family and friends die and our own bodies begin to change and fail us. We look in the mirror and find someone we hardly recognize. And yet, there is beauty that comes with this aging process and, if we pay close attention, we receive a gift — an awareness of God and God’s presence that perhaps we did not see when we were younger. For what once was just water and rocks — the stuff of life — has become evidence of a love that extends beyond time and knows no boundaries. A love and grace wider than the Grand Canyon. For from the erosion of self comes the bounty of God and the newness of a new kind of life.
Ask yourself in silence: What do I see now that I couldn’t see when I was younger? How has the presence and image of God changed in my life?