Where God Met Me, or the Other Way Around

In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him. The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land. Psalm 95:4-5

There are times in a person’s life when we feel out of sorts, discombobulated. Sometimes we don’t know why, and the why doesn't even really matter. Often we don’t even know we’re in the middle of something until we are on the other side of it and can see it from a new vantage point. And it is in these times, the out-of-sorts-discombobulated-times, that miraculous things can happen.

That’s where I was. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, in need of a miracle, when we visited Bryce Canyon on a family vacation several years ago. Bryce Canyon National Park is located in south-central Utah. This is the place where God met me… Or I guess It’s the other way around, I should say, that’s where I met God. I wasn’t converted by a missionary or baptized in the Holy Spirit. I was already what one might call “mature in the faith”... And don’t worry. I’m not going to tell you about burning bushes or pillars of smoke. There was no bearded-man in the clouds or an audible booming voice from heaven. On one unsuspecting day, however, God showed up and where it happened was Bryce Canyon, Utah.

My encounter with God is what could be referred to as a “spiritual experience.”

I had been feeling “off” for a while; burnout, stress, over-commitment, you name it, I had it. Add to the mix the stress of sleeping in hotels and in guest-rooms, visiting relatives, uncommon eating habits, long car rides and cranky teenagers; as much as I loved traveling with my family, it only tended to exacerbate my feelings of exhaustion. Bryce Canyon was the proverbial breaking point for me on this trip.

We had been in Utah for three days and our activity had mostly amounted to looking at rock formations with our extended family. One of our last stops was Bryce. By this time, my kids didn’t want to get out of the car in order to walk to see another rock formation. They had all been good sports at the beginning at Bryce Point, walking out to the first observation deck at 8,300 feet elevation. And by now we had already seen most of the park and they were getting pretty tired of rock formation… after rock formation… after rock formation. (Could you blame them?)

At Bryce Point the rock formations were gorgeous, but they tended to play with my vertigo. The height turned my knees to jelly. The pit of my stomach began to do back-flips as I reached for the edged railing. From some vantage points, I felt like I was upside down and that the pillars, formed by erosion, should have been stalactites cascading from a cave’s ceiling. Other times, I felt as if I were at the bottom of a water-less ocean, viewing a deserted reef in its spectacular reds and oranges. The kids happily returned to the car and we made our way to the next view point.

At the last pullout of the day, like I said, the kids were shot. There wasn’t any use in bribing or threatening. “Okay, fine.” I said. “Wait in the car. I’m sure this one looks just like the last one.” And I was right… and wrong.

Sunset Point. That’s what it’s called. It is quite possibly, the most beautiful formation of earth I have ever seen. It had looked like the last few vistas, but it was also unique, forcing the viewers perspective miles into the distance. For me to describe it, would be unfair. It would be unfair to you as a reader, missing out on splendor due to my lousy use of word-play and unfair to the beauty of Sunset Point and its phenomenal attributes. So, I’m going to do the inconceivable here and encourage you to stop reading this right now, open your browser, and do a Google search for “Sunset Point Bryce Canyon”. Go ahead. I’ll wait… (Insert Jeopardy theme music here.)

Did you do it? I hope so… And if you did, I mean...

Right?!?

Am I right?!?

And you’re just looking at it on a little screen, image it up close and personal.... It is immense. It is literally breathtaking.

This is where God met me.

I stood on the edge of the view point and was, for the first time in my life, dumbstruck. Literally, I could not formulate a thought. The beauty of this place overtook me. Overwhelmed me. I felt everything stop, for the briefest of moments and these words filled my mind…

“I made this… If I can take care of this, I can take care of you.”

I had no response. My mind was void. I felt an overwhelming feeling of peace, light-headed contentment... and love. And then… I literally lost it. I was standing at the edge of the viewpoint, somewhat alone (among a sea of strangers enjoying the view) and I just started to bawl. It was brief, don’t worry, I didn’t make a scene.

If God could care for this place, this beautiful, immense, intricate masterpiece of land, then didn’t it make sense that he could care for me? Care for all my needs? Care for all my worries, aspirations, plans, hopes, disappointments and dreams? Couldn’t I trust the One who created mile after mile of the pristine rock formations of Bryce Canyon, not to mention the Pacific Ocean, and Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the Sahara Desert, and elephants, and the duck-billed-platypus, and watermelons, and honey-bees, and eyelashes, couldn’t he care for little ol’ me?

I pulled myself together quickly and made a hasty return to my family in the car.

“What’s wrong?” Everyone asked, staring. “Are you okay?”

“Um… Yeah.” I stammered. “Just really overwhelmed with the beauty of it all… And I… kind of had a religious moment out there.”

Blank stares.

“Yeah, well... I just had this experience where God kinda reminded me that He takes care of me... You know… and I got the feeling that my problems aren’t really so big after all… And if He can take care of all this, then I need to trust He’s going to take care of me… Or something like that… I don’t know. Kinda cool, I guess.” (Leave it to me to down-play the extraordinary.)

Everyone seemed to shrug as my family’s focus diverted, back to vacant gazes out of tinted glass windows, from my tear-stained face.

It was then that I caught the glimmering eye of my cousin, who had been our make-shift tour guide for the day. He gave me a knowing smile and a slight nod.

“Yeah.” He said, as we began to pull away from the parking lot. “I’ve met God here before, too.”

You see, here’s the thing. God shows up. All. The. Time.

We go about our lives disregarding God’s whispers to our hearts. Consumed by busy-ness, ambition, distractions of the world. However, it is when we are at our lowest, that we are desperate enough to hear him. He shows up when you least expect it, but he shows up when your soul is finally able to listen. I have to wonder how many people have experienced God on that view-point in Bryce Canyon... or others like it around the globe, staring at the majesty of creation and realizing there’s something bigger than us. There’s order in the chaos; community in our humanity.

God shows up, whispers in your ear until you are quiet enough to hear. “I made this.” He whispers. “I made you. You are not a mistake. You are not an accident. You are uniquely created to be the one-and-only you. I will give you everything you need, even all of creation is yours. Seek me out. I’ll be there waiting for you. Come find me, because you are loved.”