This past Saturday I went hiking with a group of my friends. With the threat of rain and a light breeze pressing on us, we loaded into a seven-seat vehicle and headed for the trail. One of us in the group had been there before. After turning around a few times and multiple back-seat drivers we parked the car and took a group picture before heading up the trail. The first few minutes were rough; slow pace, heightened heart rates, and more than a few complaints. Running through my mind were questions like, “will we make it to the top?” and “how long could this trail be?” and finally, “is this even going to be worth it?” Through the barely designated path, up the steep incline and over the rock quarry. Up through the fourteen inch crevice and…
R.C. Sproul writes in The Holiness of God, “Men are never duly touched and impressed with a conviction of their insignificance, until they have contrasted themselves with the majesty of God.”
…there it was, the majesty of God as clear as I have seen it in quite some time. The crisp, brisk air cut across our faces as we stood on the large slabs of rock protruding from the earth. We overlooked the countryside of rolling hills and farmlands. Cars passed on roads far below and the Pemberley size home jumped out at us from the middle of its green estate. We turned our eyes slightly downward to watch a plane cut through the overcast sky. In between the camera phones clicking pictures were sounds of wow and awe. With each breath, we drew in the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction for completing the climb and experiencing the beauty that was before us. His beauty, His grace, His power, His love, and on and on clearly displayed. And there I stood, as small as I have ever felt.
There's just something powerful and profound about feeling insignificant...
