The following is the last of three articles that were inspired by my trip to the Grand Canyon this past October.

God and the Grand Canyon 3

Surprisingly, I didn’t sleep very well that night. I guess I was just too exhausted, too sore from the long day’s journey. Just before daylight, my sore legs dragged my aching body to the nearby lodge for a cup of coffee. I got it to go. I was lured to the Canyon’s edge once again to see where I’d been the day before. The morning’s temperature was a chilly 30 degrees. As I made my way to the Canyon, I cradled the cup of coffee in both hands, enticing the rising steam to warm my chilled face.

The path winding around the rim toward various viewpoints largely was deserted. Except for an older couple and a jogger or two, no one was on the path. To my right, three mountain goats were grazing near the trail, inching their way towards me. You never have a camera when you need one!

Along the winding path, there were breathtaking vistas of the canyon, each one offering the observer a fresh perspective of the massive depression. As I continued my stroll, stopping periodically to take in the beauty of it all, I kept choking back tears. I prayed softly, praising God for His unfathomable power.

At one promontory, not protected by railing, was a stone structure near the canyon’s edge. Strategically placed stones created both a low bench and supports for a large flat stone. Apparently intended for group photo shots, this rock configuration became an altar for me. I knelt, and as I imagined the old Patriarchs did at the various altars they’d built, I blessed the name of God.

Before me, and below me, I saw the winding path that we walked the day before. On our journey, I thought I’d noticed all the beauty. But, in my determination to get in and out in one day, I overlooked so much. I kept saying to myself, I want to go back; I’ve just got to go back, next time to experience the place, not just to accomplish a human objective.

Then it struck me. Worship is an encounter with the living God that leads to transformation. How often have we been so pragmatically determined to “do worship,” that we fail to experience, to relish God’s power and grace? How often have we turned worship into take-home tips for controlling our lives and circumstances rather than exalting and deepening our relationship with the very God who is Lord of both our lives and circumstances? At my makeshift altar that morning, I pled guilty to these—and other—self-directed approaches to God.

The next time you gather with fellow believers, I pray you will experience worship here and now. I pray that you will be brought to a place where God is all in all, and there you’ve seen His beauty, experienced His grace. And, hopefully, you will find yourself being compelled to go back again and again for a fresh encounter with His holiness. For, in those compelling moments, we begin truly to sense that He is “all we want, and all we ever needed,” not only here and now but also there and forever.