creation

Today’s Word: Erosion

Steve · November 20, 2013 · 1 Comment

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?

Today’s Word: Restoration

Steve · November 11, 2013 · 5 Comments

coxscomb — Cockscomb Butte, Sedona. SJG photo

Centennial Trail in Sedona, Arizona is an easy, short, paved hike, only two-thirds of a mile out and back. More of a stroll than a hike, really. The view is pretty good of the nearby red rock formations, including the imposing Cockscomb Butte. The sunsets are great because it’s a flat, open area and you can see both the sunset itself and the golden light that plays on the mountains to the horizon’s east. So while it’s not much of a trail, the views can be rewarding. But the most interesting thing about Centennial Trail, for me, is the knowledge that it was built on the site of Sedona’s long-time city dump. You can still see the sun glancing off small bits of glass and metal that are the remains of decades of debris. The city restored the area for Sedona’s Centennial celebration in 2002, thus the name.

stones — On Centennial Trail, Sedona. SJG photo

The trail is a reminder that beauty — both the physical beauty of the world and our own inner beauty that flows from the presence of the Spirit of God — can very often lie under our histories of neglect and even abuse. We can walk the paths of our lives and feel like the remains of someone else’s life, not realizing that we are actually choice spots of radiant beauty, vantage points from which others might someday be able to pass en route to glimpsing the glory of God just beyond us. We await only the nurturing touch and the gentle weeding of the gardener’s hand. Restored…we can be restored.

Ask yourself in silence: What is the debris of my life? From what do I need to be restored?

Note: I wrote a similar piece a few years ago about another former city dump in Ft. Bragg, California.

Today’s Word: Perspective

Steve · November 6, 2013 · 1 Comment

Chimney1 — Chimney Rock, Sedona. SJG photo

This week, Sue and I are in Sedona, Arizona, soaking up the beauty and grandeur of God’s creation as seen in the red rock formations that encircle the town. Look in any direction and the scene before you has the power to take your breath away if you are open to the power of creation to move and inspire you. And it’s pretty easy to feel inspired — that is, full of the breath and spirit of God — when you’re surrounded by such majesty.

But one of the things we’ve noticed as we take our daily hikes is how our perspective on this beauty changes as the trails twist and turn through the foothills. One such trail encircles a formation called “Chimney Rock,” named for the obvious shape of the rock when viewed from a distance and from a certain angle. When approaching the trail from Highway 89A, it would be hard not to say, “Yep, it looks just like a chimney.”

But as we began the slow trek around Chimney Rock, the truth became evident. For Chimney Rock is not a solitary obelisk at all but, in fact, three closely aligned towers. Viewed from this different perspective, we see more than before. Only by immersing ourselves in the landscape, by getting off the highway and onto the footpath, is this made clear.

Chimney3 — Chimney Rock, Sedona. SJG photo.

It is a lesson that translates easily to our lives of faith, where we are called to see beyond the obvious, to embrace the opportunity to see God in new ways and from fresh perspectives. Like taking a walk on a serpentine path on which you cannot see the way ahead or know for sure where it ends, our lives of prayer immerse us in the mystery of God and reveal aspects of the divine that we cannot fathom from the place we began.

Ask yourself in silence: Where do I get my view of God? Has it changed over the years? Do I challenge myself to see God in new ways?

And a belated congratulations to my friend and fellow blogger from Boston, Kathleen Matson, for her beloved Red Sox’s victory over my St. Louis Cardinals in this year’s World Series. Next year!

Today’s Word: Purpose

Steve · October 14, 2013 · Leave a Comment

stack — Purposefully made. Creve Coeur Park, St. Louis. SJG photo

It is perhaps the question that thoughtful, discerning, reflective people most often ask themselves and God: Why am I here? For what purpose was I created? Like the world and all within it — which God created not once but, rather, continually creates — we were fashioned by the hand and mind of God and continue to be reshaped and repurposed by the events and people that enter our lives. We are molded again and again into the men and women that we are right now…right now…right now. The molding and shaping never ceases; we are never the same person we were the day before. But to what purpose, we ask? Why the change, the evolution? To what end?

God wants us fully human and fully alive, never lukewarm. And so God plants a passion and a call deep within us, an original seed of purpose and foundation that lies dormant until we discover it, cultivate it, bring it fruition. This is our life’s work. Only through a life of introspection — of faith and prayer — do we sense this purpose and respond with lives in service of others and in worship of the One who made us.

Ask yourself in silence: What is my foundation and purpose? From what passion and call does my life flow?

Today’s Word: Creative

Steve · October 13, 2013 · 2 Comments

jenny — My daughter, Jenny, creating some music with friends Phil Cooper, left, and Gerry Kasper. SJG photo.

When we create art — at whatever level of expertise and of whatever kind — we reflect the work of the Creator, the One who put that creative spark in our gut. I have friends who create music, paintings, photography, quilts, poetry, plays, novels and many other types of work that would just remain ideas if not for the effort and commitment they put into their art and the inspiration that comes from somewhere deep within them. For the creative arts may be “inspired,” but if the idea never comes to life and no one experiences it, then what good is it? It’s like walking through an art museum or gallery and thinking, “I could have done that!” Well maybe so, but you didn’t. Someone else had the idea and took the leap.

love — "All You Need is Love," acrylic and paper on canvas by Steve Givens.

The creative arts, at least for many of us who profess a Creator God, are acts of faith. When we dare to create, when we “step out the boat,” we move from safety and comfort into an area of uncertainty, for when we begin to create we don’t always know where we are going to end up. The poem begins with a single word or line. The song with a note. The painting with a sketch or with putting brush to canvas. So it’s easy enough to talk ourselves out of creating because we think we’re not talented or creative enough. But our call as artists and people of faith is not to artistic perfection but to genuine and authentic response to the call. We are called to find some glimmer of truth and beauty in the world around us — to capture the movement and color of God — and respond, to reflect that back to those around us. Not everyone finds God in the same way. As artists and creative people, our vocation is to gently lead those who view or read or hear our art to look a little closer at the world around them and see for themselves that something beautiful, loving and eternal is waiting their notice.

Ask yourself in silence: What could I create today? How can I turn a creative gesture into both prayer for myself and a guidepost to God for others?