Our Constant Creator

A few nights ago eight friends and I went up to the top of a mountain. Getting up there was pretty rough—the road was graveled and bumpy, the night was dark, and it took enough time that we all began to wonder if we were ever going to get there.

Once we reached the end of the bumpy road, we had to walk through the woods. Our phones doubled as flashlights as we dodged hanging limbs and steadied ourselves over uneven footing.

Laughter and muffled conversations was the noise coming from our little corner of the world.  For a bit, we were louder than we probably should have been. Although, once we emerged from the path onto a gigantic rock overhang, a hush fell over us all.

The lights from our little college town shone brightly against the darkness of the night. From streetlights to supermarket parking lots, the valley below us was sprinkled with glorious golds and whites, proving that when the sun sets, our days continue on.

Above those lights there was a deep darkness. It began almost pale as the reflections from below intermingled with the emptiness. But as it rose, the darkness deepened until it gradually grew into the backdrop for a canopy of stars.

We sat on the graffitied ledge and took it all in.

Conversations began around me, and the feeling of normalcy was coupled with our awe. A shooting star was seen, then two…

I was mostly silent…

The longer I sat there, feeling the constant wind from the edge of the mountain, the more in awe I became.

As I looked up I couldn’t help but recognize the fact that all of this—this beauty, these shooting stars, this brilliance that surrounded me—this would be here whether I was there to admire it or not.

God’s creation on this night would be here, even if my loud group of eight had decided to forego stargazing.  

It would all be here even if, at the end of the night, not a single person had given a thought to the sky.

God is constant. He will remain and be wonderful and awe-inspiring even if I choose to never recognize Him again…

God’s magnificence is not limited to my ability or willingness to look at it.

So often I am tunnel visioned. I’ll be focused completely on my situation, on my to-do lists, or on the people around me, and I’ll miss God and His handiwork surrounding me.

But eventually, at some point, I’ll be stopped in my tracks. I’ll look around and see something like this beautiful scenery, or read a passage in the Bible, or just realize that my spirit is missing Him; and when I finally do look around, I see that God never stopped working.

His work, His glory, His creations, every day in every moment in every breath we breathe, He is there. He never stops being Himself. He never stops creating beautiful miracles.

He never halts the sun’s rising or setting. He never silences a baby’s first cry, or ceases a flower’s bloom, or calms a crashing wave just because the people surrounding these beautiful things will not appreciate them.

And He will never stop being intimately involved with the details of my life. He’ll never forget to lead me in the way I should go. He’ll never be too distracted to listen to my prayers. Even when I’ve gone a whole week distracted and distant from Him, He never once leaves me.

He is always. He is forever true. He is constant.

And I am so overwhelmed at the thought that this is the God I serve. This constant, indescribable, loving God is my Savior.

And I am beyond honored, deeply humbled, and completely astounded that I am able to know and serve Him.