I Made This For You
I took a walk today, along a canal in an orchard. It was quite spontaneous. I was unprepared and got a little cold, and ended up walking in the dark for the last couple minutes. But how great is our God, that He can reach out so effectively in these mundane things. As I was leaving the house, I felt the urge to leave my phone as well. Not super unusual for me, but I do enjoy documenting and photographing the beauty of the countryside in fall, so I resisted the urge for a split second. Then I caved and left my phone on the shelf in my grandparents garage. I headed out across the orchard and climbed through a fence onto the canal bank, then followed that out into the country.
I've done this walk before. It's always enjoyable. I am someone who gets my canteen filled up easily in nature, so it's not a stretch for me to revel in the beauty of an orchard. I was thinking and talking to God a little bit, admiring the trees, and breathing in the fresh country air. (Which smelled vaguely like chicken poop.) After a while, I came to one of those concrete bridges, the nice, sketchy ones, that run across the canal. It was at that moment I fully recognized the beauty of the sky.
It wasn't abnormally breathtaking, actually, compared to some sunsets. There were no clouds, just a large expanse of emptiness that was light, peachy-yellow on the western horizon, and slowly faded to a grayish-purply-blue on the eastern horizon. But for some reason, this averagely beautiful sky caused me to sit down there on that concrete bridge. I just took it in and dangled my feet over the mud in the canal, and the dim colors in the sky reflected in the muddy standing water. The orchard was silhouetted against the backdrop, and unexpectedly, every detail was more noticeable, despite only seeing the outlines of the trees.
I felt a twinge of regret. I could have taken a picture of this! Instagram would have been happy, and the filters probably would have been cool. I could have shown the sunset to other people, and tell them how it made me feel, and how much I enjoyed it. God stopped me midway through this thought. "No, I made this for you," I almost heard Him say.... "But, Lord, other people probably would like to see this, too!" "I made this for you." So I stopped thinking about taking pictures, and thought about that, the idea that God had crafted this moment especially for me. No one else was on that canal bank. No one was seeing the sky and the trees exactly like I was in that moment. And I was overcome by how very special that felt. God had made this moment just for me, and for no one else.
I'm thankful that God pursues His children. He pursues us like a lover pursues His beloved, showering her with gifts and moments. Sometimes I'm tempted to rush off and tell everyone I know about the gifts. That isn't bad, I don't think... God doesn't fill us up just so we can horde the love that He's blessed us with. But sometimes, I think God likes us to simply be in that moment, soak up His presence and the beauty that He's giving, instead of wondering how many social media approvals this would bring us. He creates those moments for us and only us. He pursues individuals because He loves them specifically, and He shows it in every single way known to man, based on that person He created. And the best way to discover that love is to look for it!
Be in the moment and soak up God!
I've done this walk before. It's always enjoyable. I am someone who gets my canteen filled up easily in nature, so it's not a stretch for me to revel in the beauty of an orchard. I was thinking and talking to God a little bit, admiring the trees, and breathing in the fresh country air. (Which smelled vaguely like chicken poop.) After a while, I came to one of those concrete bridges, the nice, sketchy ones, that run across the canal. It was at that moment I fully recognized the beauty of the sky.
It wasn't abnormally breathtaking, actually, compared to some sunsets. There were no clouds, just a large expanse of emptiness that was light, peachy-yellow on the western horizon, and slowly faded to a grayish-purply-blue on the eastern horizon. But for some reason, this averagely beautiful sky caused me to sit down there on that concrete bridge. I just took it in and dangled my feet over the mud in the canal, and the dim colors in the sky reflected in the muddy standing water. The orchard was silhouetted against the backdrop, and unexpectedly, every detail was more noticeable, despite only seeing the outlines of the trees.
I felt a twinge of regret. I could have taken a picture of this! Instagram would have been happy, and the filters probably would have been cool. I could have shown the sunset to other people, and tell them how it made me feel, and how much I enjoyed it. God stopped me midway through this thought. "No, I made this for you," I almost heard Him say.... "But, Lord, other people probably would like to see this, too!" "I made this for you." So I stopped thinking about taking pictures, and thought about that, the idea that God had crafted this moment especially for me. No one else was on that canal bank. No one was seeing the sky and the trees exactly like I was in that moment. And I was overcome by how very special that felt. God had made this moment just for me, and for no one else.
I'm thankful that God pursues His children. He pursues us like a lover pursues His beloved, showering her with gifts and moments. Sometimes I'm tempted to rush off and tell everyone I know about the gifts. That isn't bad, I don't think... God doesn't fill us up just so we can horde the love that He's blessed us with. But sometimes, I think God likes us to simply be in that moment, soak up His presence and the beauty that He's giving, instead of wondering how many social media approvals this would bring us. He creates those moments for us and only us. He pursues individuals because He loves them specifically, and He shows it in every single way known to man, based on that person He created. And the best way to discover that love is to look for it!
Be in the moment and soak up God!
Comments
Post a Comment