Here is the second article that was inspired by my experience at the Grand Canyon in October of this year.

God and the Grand Canyon 2

I typically dread the sickening sound of an alarm clock jarring me to consciousness. Not this day. In fact, I welcomed, even anticipated, its annoying beeping. For, this day, I was going to do something I had never done—we were hiking from the South rim of the Grand Canyon to the Colorado River and back. The prospect of such a trek was itself challenging, but we were doing it in one day!

As we approached the trailhead at 6:00 a.m., darkness still largely shrouded the canyon. After a prayer for safety, we began our decent into the monstrous hole. As we walked, the sun’s rays began to tease to light the brilliant colors of the various strata created by forces not fully known. I finally began to see all the astonishing contours of this breath-taking place.

It seemed that at every new plateau, cliff, and crevice something new, more fascinating was revealed. The stroll through Indian Garden, where we broke for a quick snack of payday candy bars, canned beans, and fruit cocktail was an oasis in an otherwise barren land. After several long drinks of water we were back on the trail. More miles of endless twisting and turning as we slowly made our way to the winding Colorado. Our haggard group, consisting of my oldest daughter, sister, Dad, and me, wondered if we’d ever reach the river with the sickening realization that every step we took down we’d have to repeat on the way out.

We made it to the river that day, where we soaked our tired feet in the chilly Colorado. We also dragged ourselves out of the Canyon nearly 12 hours after we began. We did what signs and rangers warn you not to do—we hiked to the river and back in one day. That was a great feeling!

Later, as I reflected on the day’s grueling—yet fascinating—journey, several thoughts came to mind. First, I relished the personal experience that I had with something so much larger than myself that I will never be the same. Second, what really made the experience special is that I shared it with others whom I love. Because of our collective journey, each with our own unique reactions to it, we share an experience that binds our hearts together. I further felt strangely connected to generations past who marked and traveled the very trail we trod.

Nothing can take the place of a personal experience with the Father God. Only until we individually plunge into His presence will we ever begin to understand His beauty, His richness, His grace. Yet, at the same time, there is power in shared experiences. Others who similarly have traveled into the presence of God, with their own, unique response, are forever bound together by such shared experience. Such was the longing of the downcast Psalmist who reminisced about the times he “used to go with the multitude, leading the procession to the house of God” (Psalm 42:5).

As we worship, not only are our hearts touched by the Father and drawn into closer rhythm with His, but they also are synchronized with others who share the experience. Such is the power of God’s community—a group of travelers twisting and turning along a path traveled by many before, and powerfully connected by the experience. So, come, now is the time to worship!