It would be the perfect ending to a fabulous day. After driving 1,500 miles through beauty, we still craved more.
We hunger, and we ache to be satisfied. And I still forget I was created for a different world.
We made plans and confirmed the exact minute God would sweep red and vibrant pink across the stone-and-cave canvas. Yes, witnessing the sunset over the Grand Canyon would satisfy the summer craving I just couldn’t put into words.
I was sure of it.
Earlier, I watched my son capture something bigger than himself…
… and saw my daughter re-create instead of design. Saw her surrender instead of control.
They were hungry. Just like their mama.
Have you craved beauty, too? Have you hungered after crumbs because that’s all you thought there was? Have you scribbled only to remember you’re not the Author?
I see you trying to carve a masterpiece but instead desperately stabbing at the form you want to redeem. The job of Savior is already taken.
Show me Your beauty, God. Show me Your glory. I was finally ready to thirst after the One who could satisfy. Ready to lean into the One I had danced away from with my worry and wandering. I really was.
Gradually, slowly, the desert air reflected the confusion within. I heard the slightest sound and felt the breeze and watched the crowd wait for more. The mystery lingered. Sometimes you’re too busy for answers, and waiting prepares your heart for truth.
The sky — it became a shadow too fast. The dark wrapped itself around us faster than the sun could paint the masterpiece.
No! The sunset! This was my only chance to see His beauty the way everyone else does. We wouldn’t be back tomorrow.
Rain, rain, go away. This wasn’t my story. Wasn’t my song.
But it was.
The canyon, well, it’s so big. And vast. And you watch the storm inch toward you instead of surprising you like city rain. You read the story as it takes a different form, and your heart almost has time to catch up.
You think You need to see beauty, my Maker whispered. No. Not this summer.
You need to see My strength.
People ran, grabbing their children’s hands, while the brave tried to capture the moment. Tiny mortals sought shelter from something they couldn’t control. My kids watched thirsty and drank it in, letting the strength imprint their hearts instead of turning away to hide.
How can I make them run? How can I make them seek shelter when they’re brave enough to be exposed?
I plan to be comfortable. I dream of somehow satisfying those longings I can’t even identify. I commend myself for trying to be still so I can notice the beauty.
But I recently told a friend we might just stop searching because what we long for doesn’t exist.
Yes! It’s so true, isn’t it? she agreed. We long for something that’s not even here.
I see your tender heart, weary from worry, craving comfort. I see you willing to surrender because you’re tired of fighting.
But friend, maybe the storm will show you something greater than beauty ever could.
Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters…
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,
declares the Lord.
As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:1, 8-9 niv
Yes, come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters…
And in His grace, when we refuse to come to the water, He brings it to us.