Driving thru Yellowstone

Several years ago I was on vacation with my friend in Yellowstone National Park. Neither of us had been there before and sadly, we had just one day to sort of “drive thru.” I don’t recommend that. If you ever go to Yellowstone, plan to stay a few days. Driving thru in one day is sort of like flying over Greenland and then claiming you’ve been there.

Anyway, we had a fun day of seeing just about as much as you can see in one day. Rivers, mountains, elk, buffalo, moose…even a bald eagle. And just as the sun was setting and we were about to head out of the park we saw one last sign. “Little Canyon of Yellowstone ==>” We looked at each other wondering if we should rush to see some little canyon before sunset. What the heck, we figured. So we turned right, parked and got out of the car.

We didn’t expect much. We slowly got out of the car and began to walk up to the observation deck. That’s when it happened. With each step closer our jaws dropped just a little further. It was breathtaking. Stunning. Majestic. Glorious. There was the roaring waterfall. The steep cliffs crashing down to the raging river. The sun hitting the cliffs giving the rocks a vibrant yellow and orange glow as if aflame. Words and even a picture fail to really describe the moment. My friend and I just stood there and stared for a long few moments, trying our best to absorb all we could in this holy moment.

I’ve been thinking about this memory a lot lately. It reminds me to anticipate the glorious in life. Life is hard. It is not often what one hopes and dreams it will be. There are disappointments. And sometimes you’ve just kind of operated for so long just doing what you do, that you fail to notice you are disappointed or that something is just not right. This has been me for the last few years. Frustrated. Disappointed. Sad. And not really noticing it. Kind of like driving around through Yellowstone, noticing the obvious (like the buffalo right beside the road), anticipating nothing divine. And yet, in sore need of the divine.

“Be still” is the phrase stuck in my head. “Be still and know that I am God.” I find this discipline difficult if not impossible these days. I blame it on modern and convenient technology. It has evaporated my attention span. If God doesn’t show up or answer me in 30 seconds, which is way longer than it takes my internet home page to come up, then I’m frustrated and done. I don’t know how to be still anymore.

But Jesus did it all the time. And while he didn’t have the modern technology that we have, he had plenty of things and people demanding His attention, offering distraction. Disciples worried about their next meal, people wanting to hear him teach, fisherman needing a little help with their catch, people wanting to be healed, religious people trying to trap him, etc. And yet there are several examples in scripture of Jesus sneaking away, away from the crowd, the noise to pray and be still.

It is possible. And I think in those moments where we can finally be still, He likes to show us a little more of who He is. Not that it’s a formula to fix the crap of life. By no means. It’s simply an invitation to commune and anticipate.

Life is still occasionally hard and disappointing. But that day at Yellowstone, as I stood there soaking it all in, I learned a little bit more about the Creator. I saw His beauty, His creativity, His power, His glory. And it was breathtaking. I think He longs to take our breaths away every chance He gets. And I for one, need Him too.