If someone ever decides to write a book about me, they’ll say that I chased the sky. I love it. I really do. I adore early morning sunrises, passionate sunsets, and star-gazing. And I headed out tonight to catch the sunset.
As I bounded out the door and down the steps to myself, I laughed boisterously and mused loudly, “It’s going to be a beautiful one.” I just knew it. The clouds were perfectly thin and high, and that kind of spread makes for a brilliant display across the heavens. I went to pick up my sister and we were off to my favorite place: my rock. It’s a very large rock jutting out of a loud, swiftly moving river. Rapids surround it, and it is absolutely the best place on earth to watch the sky. There’s nothing to block your view, and the sound of the water around you is glorious.
We got there early and walked a mile, climbed out over boulders and up the side of the rock. Then we settled ourselves down to watch the sunset. They sun was still pretty high, relatively speaking, so we talked a little, spent some time in our own meditations, and fervently watched the sky.
We could see that the sun was sinking, but the only color to be seen was a fiery orange with some emerging cloud coverage. Nothing too impressive. I figured since the sunset was kind of a letdown, we could just head back to the car while we could still see and avoid walking back in the dark, so we packed up, climbed back to the trail and headed the mile back to the car.
At some point, one or the other of us glanced over her shoulder and gasped. Then we both beheld the most intense pink sunset. Only it was obstructed by the woods between us and the sky. Which really dampened my appreciation of it. I was so frustrated! I had missed this beautiful display of splendor because of my limited reasoning, and even more limited capacity to be still and wait.
I was so mad at myself for missing it. I knew it was going to be beautiful. I just knew it. And then I missed it. All that time and energy; the mile walk, what amounted to a beginner’s mountain climbing lesson, and sitting there waiting, only to get up right before all that I had hoped to see appeared on the horizon. And I missed it. I saw it from afar instead of up close and personal. Bummer!
Somewhere in there, there’s a spiritual lesson. At least there was for me.
How often do we get up and move on before we’ve seen all that we hope for on the horizon. We get impatient and disappointed, and move before God’s perfect timing paints a beautiful masterpiece across the landscape of our lives.
Look at all the toil you’ve gone through. All the hope you’ve held onto. I’m not saying stand in a place where things are dead, in bondage to an idea that’s not inspired by the Holy Spirit. I’m saying when God has given you a Word, then hold on for it. Wait for it. It will surely come to pass. Don’t miss it. It’s gonna be beautiful!