For hours our game was to look for the river, to get a shot of a cavern, to somehow point and shoot towards the vast expanse in hopes we might remember it. After a few hours, I gave up for the most part and just watched the play of light and shadows. I thought about how shadows work, how mysterious they are. Here they are not sinister as often portrayed, they’re mystery.
I think I wanted to frame majesty in common ground. And I wanted to invite hearts for justice. I thought if I could tell the story of Jesus well enough and true enough, then the world would aright itself. Somehow here, standing between the pine trees an gaping at the expanse, the world all seemed right and full of beauty. I felt re-oriented in some way. In church speak we would call this redeemed. I only had vowels in me: o, oo, ah, wow (granted: w’s are consonants, but they felt like vowels).
This picture I took just for the color of the sky. A quilt should be made of such. and it is to consider the sky and clouds and to compose it all together. We did not have much to say in this place. Just breath. Which, frankly, was at times precious since were at 7,000 feet or more much of the time
I thought about what our Pink Jeep tour guide Josh said about these canyons. He spoke of climate change with great respect and acknowledged that the climates have always been changing. The landscape has always been changing. We are here for such a blink of it all. I chuckle to myself to think how important I felt my ministries have been. They have been meaningful and of some value to those whose paths crossed mine. But these canyons long predate the Church and they will long outlast us.
Then we received word that there had been a devastating earthquake in Haiti. Today we have felt a bit transported there by the news and efforts at news leaking in. Our friends are there at St. Josephs and Wings of Hope and Trinity House. Also our friend Jay Butler is there with his daughter, Kate. They are both doing well.