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.

 

 

Writing In The Sky

Have you ever tried to paint?  Do you remember the progression of painting when you were little?

I remember finger painting in kindergarten.  Creating masterpieces with sticky, wet, color-covered fingers that were hung with pride on the family fridge.

Paint by numbers came a little later.  The little plastic paint containers were kinda tricky to open, and they never seemed to have enough blue… blue is still my favorite color.  After several hours of matching colors to numbers, you ended up with a painting that actually looked like something.  Well sort of…

After several years of doodling and dorking around with art, I took a junior high art class.  That was fun.  Just enough art to make you feel like an “arteest”  and just unough junior high to make it really fun.

The next major art step came from my college art appreciation class.  We focused on Italian Renaissance art… Michaelangelo, Donatello, Raphael, Leonardo (so that’s where the Teenage Mutant Ninga Turles got their names!).  The art we studied was absolutely beautiful.  While in college I also had the chance to visit some amazing museums in New York and Washington DC to see firsthand some of the finest art created by man.

All of it fails compared to what I saw last night.

I drove west in my truck as the sun set over the Sangre De Cristos.  A medium-sized cloud blocked the sun, so I was spared from blinding glare.  An orange curtain flowed from under those clouds and draped over the Sangre De Cristos, which are bookended by the Spanish Peaks to the north and Fisher’s Peak to the south.  Coulds of every shape and color filled the sky, but not so full as to block out the light and turn things grey.  It was breathtaking.

The interesting part is that at that moment I was thinking about purpose, vision, destiny, fulfilling God’s role for my life… big thoughts.  God answered me back by writing on his sky “This is what I have for you, this is where I have you, and it is more beautiful than you can imagine.”

That was more than enough to still my mind and my heart.