The Spectacular and the Memorable

One of the most spectacular (if not the most spectacular) events in time and space had to have been when God created light.  Imagine total darkness.  TOTAL darkness.  No sun, no moon, no stars, no firelight, no electric lights.   ^“And God said, ‘Let there be light’, and there was light.” (Gen 1:3)  How amazing that moment must have been.  We can’t even begin to imagine even one moment in darkness as black as that must have been.  One might say that perhaps someone who is blind would know that type of darkness, yet they have felt the warmth of the sun on their skin and heard descriptions of light in its many forms.  Even a windowless room without artificial light would still not equal the darkness that was before God created light.

There is another darkness upon which a great light has dawned—the darkness of sin. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.”  (Isaiah 9:2)  Though not as outwardly spectacular, the coming of the light of the gospel into the heart of a sinner more than equals the wondrous creation of physical light.  So many Bible phrases emphasize the darkness, the lostness which has characterized men and women since the fall of Adam—“The heart is deceitful above all things” (Jer 17:9), “None is righteous, no, not one” (Rom 3:10), “For out of the heart come evil thoughts” (Matt 15:19) and many others.  But God sent Jesus, the Light of the world to cast out sin and darkness and give faith, repentance and the glorious light of the gospel, to change the hearts of sinners.  How spectacular. How personal.

Now to the memorable.  There have been two memorable instances in which physical, created light was captured in a special moment for me.  The first was driving over the mountain from our house outside of Landisburg to Carlisle (PA).  The day was sunny and beautiful.  As I crested the mountain, the Cumberland Valley was socked in with clouds and I was above them.  It felt as though my car had become a small plane and I was soaring in sun and blue sky while the earth remained below shrouded by clouds.  As I descended the mountain and entered the cloud bank, I could only repeat over and over—“Oh, wow!”  What an experience.

The second memorable “light” moment occurred on an early summer evening.  Usually evenings are spent at home, but on that occasion, I had been out shopping.  As I left the store and turned to go to my car, the view at the end of the strip mall was nothing short of amazing.  The sun had just set, leaving the sky overhead a deep navy blue while across the horizon was a strip of lighter blue which gradually faded into the dark sky above.  Silhouetted against that was on large tree with a crescent moon just to the left and the evening star above its tip.  Again, I found myself saying, “Oh, wow!” and marveling that the others hurrying around me did not even seem to notice.

One generation shall commend your works to another,
    and shall declare your mighty acts.
 On the glorious splendor of your majesty,
    and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.
They shall speak of the might of your awesome deeds,
    and I will declare your greatness.

 They shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness
    and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

Psalm 145: 3-7  ESV

Desert Impressions

My first impression of the high desert?  Somewhat vague. I'd just turned 9 and we were moving from Long Beach, CA to Hesperia about 100 miles inland via Cajon Pass between the San Gabriel Mountains and the San Bernardino Mountains on Route 66.  So many changes--new house, new school, new surroundings, probably more than my 9 year old brain could really comprehend at the time.  I remember brown instead of green, cold instead of warm.  Long Beach at sea level was warm and green all year around while Hesperia at 3000+ feet altitude was brown and very cold that December.

When we, my mother, younger sister, younger brother and I, arrived there was no heat in the house and the furnace would not start.  My dad was detained in Long Beach by work, so it was up to us.  Providentially there was a working fireplace and wood to burn, whether left there intentionally or scavenged from surrounding scrub and downed Joshua trees is a fact lost in the shrouded past.  We all slept in the living room that night.  The following day all complications were solved by the adult while we children explored.  Our new lives had begun.

Looking back 5 and 1/2 decades, what impressions remain?  Light from a brilliant sun on cloudless days making deep shadows where mountains and houses stood.  Endless vistas.  Playing in the desert sand.  Joshua trees, cactus, tumbleweeds.  Jack rabbits, roadrunners, horned toads...