Old Eyes and Mountains Majesty

Today I was taken back my two very different images of greatness.

I don’t have to try very hard to describe the greatness in the video below.  It will make you want to turn off your computer, and begin to run, Forrest Gump style to the nearest mountain range.  Be sure to watch this in full screen mode.  You won’t regret it.

I watched this video after I completed a few of my nightly geek chores.  The music and the majestic images mesmerized me.   Tears almost broke through… almost.

The second image of greatness takes a little more explanation.

Earlier today I visited a nursing home.  I wasn’t there to visit a relative, a church member, or a Branson neighbor; I was there on geek business.  (No crawl spaces today – yay!)

I scurried through the nursing home’s halls and dining area scoping out a path for new computer cables.  As I briskly walked around in my best business-like stride, I could not ignore the faces around me.

There were a few men who still had the sparkle in their eyes and an ornery smirk about them.  But they were the exception.  Vacant and expressionless faces dominated the scene.  I did my best to smile and make eye contact.  I hardly ever even got a head nod back.

My heart felt heavy as I thought about the potential stories that left each of these souls stranded in that building.  Family obligations… health concerns… convenience…  Very happy thoughts indeed.

Fast forward to this evening.  We had a church board meeting at the home of one of the board members.  This board member takes care of his 90-plus year-old dad.  The dad is fading.  He is mentally there most of the time.  After his wife of 70+ years went to heaven last year, dad has began to fade.  There’s still a sparkle…

The image of greatness that struck me was that of the faithful, dutiful son.  Instead of spending his days pursuing his own dreams, he lives on the family ranch and takes care of his dad.  There’s nothing glamorous or exciting about it at all – cooking, cleaning, trips to the doctor, shopping, laundry… over and over and over.  The son has chosen a life of ordinary, predictable, humble, service.  Without knowing it, his life is a mastepiece-level  painting of faithfulness that inspires me.  I am glad to serve Jesus with him.

In a society that praises adventure, risk, wealth, and self-glorification, the son’s real-life image of greatness surpassed the greatness and majesty of Yosemite’s peaks in my eyes today.

 

 

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