life happens where we are
Yellowstone is the epitome of life. The 3,472 square miles of this park consist of terrain and nature that is unlike any place on Earth. Birthed out of a massive volcanic eruption 2.1 million years ago, Yellowstone has experienced extreme weather conditions from its cataclysmic beginning. Whether fire or ice, flood or drought, blizzard or sunny, Yellowstone is constantly evolving, changing, and always remarkable.
It's April 12th, and I am sitting in Yellowstone, the first National Park. As always, I am amazed by the beauty. I see magnificent bright white snow-covered mountain peaks. It's 55 degrees, and with the weather warming, the snow is beginning to melt and give way to streams and waterfalls. While much of the grass is still brown, fresh grass is starting to pop through. The Lodgepole pine trees are a deep forest green, and you can see and hear them as they sway in the wind. My friend Tara Beth always says the wind sounds in the trees like they are singing praises to the Lord. Today they are singing non-stop.
Yellowstone was molded and shaped by seismic events, running water, pressure, and temperature over millions of years. The creation of Yellowstone is an exercise of patience. Hundreds of years from now, it will look different than it does today. New beauty will come from the ashes of fires, fierce storms, and even humans engaging in conservation efforts. One must practice patience to experience the wonder of Yellowstone fully. Monday, we were caught in a Bison jam. Fifty-plus bison were on the road, holding up traffic both ways. Some were fighting, some were sauntering between cars, and a few were sitting on the road. It was at least an hour delay, but we sat in the car admiring the largest mammal in North America. Last night, we watched a Grizzly bear for several hours as he lay on his back and continually stretched himself out onto the snow. I could only imagine his legs needed that good long stretch after being cooped up in his winter den for many months. Patience and persistence as we watched him and oohed and awed every time he would lift his head. Life happens here.
And life happens where we are. We may not be molded and shaped over millions of years, but we are molded and shaped by each moment. Every laugh or cry, conversation or confrontation, every smile from a stranger or disagreement with a loved one, these moments shape us into the people we are. New beauty can come from us in the highs and lows of our life. When our life appears to be in ashes, new life can begin inside of us. The last few weeks have been full of misery that seemingly doesn't make sense. While I don't subscribe to the cliche that everything happens for a reason, nor do I believe that God prescribes all things, I do believe that we are not alone. I believe God is present with us in even the darkest times of our lives. Do we see God, though?
It's easy to see God in Yellowstone. God is seen in the majestic mountains, the birds chirping melodies, the camaraderie and community that happens around a rare wildlife sighting, and the endless streams of running water. It's much harder to see God when colleagues are in crisis. It's harder to see God when people you love are dazed and confused; it's harder to see God amid fear and broken hearts. But God is there. John 1:5 says, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it." Will we intentionally and patiently look for the shining light of God? Will we patiently wait for new beauty to come from job loss, chaos, and even tragedy?
Life happens here. In the last several weeks, amidst grief unlike any other I have experienced, I have seen God show up repeatedly. You may not see the water cascading over the cliffs or the bison migrating across the rugged terrain to their summer home, but God shows up just the same. How do we know God is actually with us in the midst of such grief and uncertainty? We have to be open, we have to be patient, we have to look, and when we do, we will see God in places we least expect.
I've seen God in text messages of gratitude.
I've heard God in late-night phone calls
I've experienced God in between sobs of grief
I've felt God's presence in tight hugs
I've seen God when I've looked into the faces of people
I saw God when I listened to stories of a lifetime of giving to others (David Young)
I've felt God when I assured others
I've experienced God through the prayers of others
I felt God's overwhelming peace when I defiantly said no to bitterness and yes to faithfulness
I've seen God from the words of people represented in a multitude of emails.
Seeing, feeling, or experiencing God doesn't mean there isn't still brokenness. It doesn't invalidate our grief or make the darkness vanish away, but when we patiently seek out the light in places we least expect, we will find a loving God who is present with us. A loving God that, like Yellowstone, molds, shapes, and forms us over our lifetime. I love the Message version of Micah 7:7, which says, "But me, I'm not giving up. I'm sticking around to see what God will do. I'm waiting for God to make things right. I'm counting on God to listen to me."
Friends, life happens here. You make a difference. Send that note. Call that friend. Encourage that colleague. Say thank you. Smile. Be with people. God shows up through you! So seek God, for when you do, you will find a light shining in the darkness. And to borrow Philippians 1:6 NLT: "And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns."
