Wrote this a while ago while trying to do homework on our porch and watching a sunset in the gorgeous Shenandoah Valley.
Take it for what it is.
I feel so small right now. I think now of that movie with Tom
Cruise, I think that it was Oblivion, where he and his “wife” live in a pod
seemingly miles above earths surface.
Tom flew his ship around the earth from way above and you could see just
how big the world is and how small and infinitesimal humans are on its surface,
yet how much we can change the earth.
That jet stream up there must be going so fast, and how is it such a
deep, pure, blue over to the north and such a dark and menacing blue to the
east? It is the same color and the same sky, but it evokes such different
emotions in me. When I look to the
north I see hope, I see pureness, I see freedom from bondage and freedom from
sin. When I look to the east I see
a menacing storm on the horizon trying to break forth from the mountains yet
the strength and height of those mountains is holding it back. The blue above signifies the rain and
torrents and storms that wish to break over us, but the mountains are able to
hold it back as the clouds pile higher and higher on top of each other,
seemingly insurmountable. I can
see the pureness of the sunset and the pureness of the innocence of the world
to the north. I can see the looming
darkness and storms of life closing in from the east, and now the south. I see the trees changing around me,
light yellows mixed with dark brown and vibrant reds, interlaid with the lush
green of conifers and the trees that have not yet started turning. I’m not sure how to approach it, there
is so much out there that I don’t know, and my life lies to the east. I can run from the storm to the north,
where there is freedom and everyone is happy, or I can turn south and east and
face what is coming head on, to choose to dive into a world that is corrupt and
a world that is changing so fast it leaves you blind to what is going on. The clouds obstruct your view of the
blue sky, but they show the blue of the storm. There is sin there that needs to be fought, there is corruption
that needs to be overcome, there are needy people who are crying out for help
and people quietly turn their backs.
We all get so comfortable in our beautiful skies of the north that we
ignore the looming storms and we ignore what God can have in store for us if we
stand up and face the evil in the world.
When we extend our love I can see the all too cliché light breaking
through the clouds. I see the sun
on the factory across town and I know there is hope there. I see the beauty on the mountains that
can so easily be obscured by the dangers of the clouds that we can simply look
right past it, but it is there. We
cannot deny that. To deny the
glory of God on the mountains under the storm is to deny God and deny why we
are here. As the sun breaks on Massanutten
I am reminded that there is hope over there, I am reminded that in the midst of
political turmoil and in the midst of injustice so ripe it makes me sick, there
is hope. Yes, evil will come, wars
will be fought, injustice will run rampant in this world, people will be
killed, families will be divided against each other, sickness and disaster will
come and claim those that we love.
But we already knew all that.
We read all that in Sunday School.
It is just so much easier to accept something we read in Sunday School
compared to actually seeing it and realizing how hard it can be. How unjust it can be. And how difficult it can be to stand up
for what we believe and be willing to risk the ridicule that is sure to come
from it. The sun breaks on the top
of the mountain, showing the color of the trees, the deep reds at the top, the
greens underneath, and the shadows in the valley. The storm is still there, but it is in the background now,
it isn’t the focal point of the horizon, I realize how much more is there that
I can’t see. And I also realize
how much more I can see of the mountain from here than if I was actually
there. From here I can see the
entire western face of the mountain, I can see the different valleys, the
different peaks, the different ridges that branch down. If I was on that mountain hiking, all
that I would be able to see of the mountain is where I was standing at the
moment. I would miss so much; I
would miss being able to see the difference in the leaves from the top to the
bottom. My view would be
obstructed by the trees, and the clouds breaking and the impending rain, and
the rocks, and the mountain itself, but from here I can see it all. I can see
how much hope lies over there.
From here I can see how much hope lies elsewhere in the world. I can see those that are doing good all
around the planet, those that are sacrificing their health, their wealth, their
relationships, and their lives to help those in need. But when you are there your view can become so obstructed
from the storms and the individual pieces of the world that we can easily miss
what hope we could see from afar.
I can see now that that dark blue that was the storm has now turned into
a deep orange as the sun is setting behind me and reflecting off of the clouds. Things change. Just because there is injustice in
parts of the world doesn’t mean that there will be injustice there
forever. Just as hope has come
into the storm on the horizon, hope will come in the parts of the world that
need hope. But it won’t happen
just by sitting there. Just as the
sun setting in the west caused a change in the east, we need to make a change
if we want to see change further than our local communities. We need to see that there is beauty
further than the Shenandoah Valley, there is beauty further than the mountains
of Colorado, there is beauty further than the lakes of Michigan, there is
beauty further than the United States of America, there is beauty in each and
every person here on this earth.
Why can’t we see that? Why
do we focus on the storms and try to fix the problem with another storm? Ask any meteorologist, two storms that
collide cause a bigger storm, a worse storm. We need to combat the storms by a different means. But in order to do that we have to see
the hope there. We have to see the
hope in the Middle East. We need
to see the hope in Washington D.C. as politicians bring the government to a
standstill. We need to see the
hope in Iraq and Afghanistan and Iran.
We need to see the hope in Syria.
We need to see the hope in Egypt.
We need to see the hope in Africa.
We need to see the hope in South America. We need to see the hope in Europe and Asia. Until we can see the hope that is
there, we have nothing. Until we
see the hope that is there, all we have is the comfortable blue skies of the
north. Our tiny little bubble of
America that seems to be so safe from anything outside its borders. But there is beauty further than the
borders of America, and there is hope further than the borders of America, and
we need to see that and do something about it. As the sun sets in the west, the clouds change in the east. As we move from our homes and from our
comfort we can bring hope where there was no hope because we saw the hope that
could be. It’s just so stinking
hard.
End.
