Unretouched image of me at Mesa Arch at sunrise today. It glows copper-colored for only a few moments. Supreme joy.
In my last post I identified that I am in search of, driven by, and yearning for, three things. Not riches, not fame, not comfort; not accomplishment or acquisition; not greatness, not honor. Here’s what moves me:
1) I can sit on the edge of a canyon in mute wonder for a great long time, with no need to budge. I can stare at a single flower blossom in admiration, or stand transfixed and breathless in an art museum. Beauty undoes me.
2) I’m wired for connection. When I am 1:1 with a friend — over a cup of tea, on the phone, Skyping across an ocean, or (in the old days) writing a l-o-n-g letter — my heart is full and satisfied. It’s all about relationship.
3) Always, always, I am digging up something fresh and intriguing. How does the evening primrose spring open so quickly? Where will that canyoneering route take me? What is the etymology of this curious word? How many civil war deaths resulted from field amputations? And… did I bug my parents by asking questions incessantly? This insatiable curiosity is a manifestation of my longing to be fascinated.
These stirrings provide strong evidence that there’s something more, something higher, something I can’t yet see. C. S. Lewis got it:
“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”
Aaaaahhhhh. That’s it. My lifelong search for beauty, connection, and fascination is not of this earth. Makes perfect sense to me.
So, in this Advent season, when we remember the gentle and unassuming commingling of earth and heaven, the contemplative in me finds rest. My deepest longings will one day be satisfied, beyond my ability to imagine. This I know.
All is well.
Merry Christmas to my readers.