The day had begun as stormy as I'd ever seen it: high winds whipping the trees like a mixer stirring dough, raindrops being blown in circles, dark clouds making it look that morning like dusk was setting in. It was my birthday and all I'd wanted was dry weather - so we could take a fried chicken picnic up to the mountains and be in God's creation. I needed the reset, not just for my body but also for my soul. Yet it appeared as though that plan might be in jeopardy. But I was still hopeful...
Fast forward a few hours, and the clouds began to part... almost as if God knew my heart's desire and pre-determined not to let the weather keep me from the perfect day. The sun peaked out, the temp warmed up and, suddenly, things seemed more promising. By the time I'd left the house and reached the car with my family, it was good enough to give the original plan a try and see if an afternoon in the valley was still possible. While later, friend chicken dinner in hand from a favorite diner spot, we pulled into the parking lot up the mountain pass and proceeded to have our special picnic.
The day was memorable for several reasons, namely that I'd never seen (or heard) the valley as it was that day. All the recent heavy rains had the pass literally teeming with water. Stand still, and you could hear the sound of rushing water all around you - from one side of the valley to the other. All the small brooks and creeks were overflowing with white waves of bubbling liquid. The waterfalls were pouring over as well. And the big river down at the bottom had turned into a white water rapids that would give a healthy respect for anyone thinking about testing its limits.
Everywhere I looked or listened that day was like a fresh discovery. I've been hiking these trails in this valley most of my life... in fact, part of why I wanted a picnic here for my birthday was because I have found memories of another chicken dinner we had in the old 1966 Ford truck in this exact spot before it gave up the ghost years ago. I was only a kid at the time. But the memory stuck. And I wanted to relive it again. I wanted that feeling of being youthful a full of possibility. Because as an adult, I find I have to purposely cultivate moments like this in order for me to remember that life in the Kingdom is all about "becoming as little children" - full of trust, faith, love, and continuous wonder.
Of course, I had to work off those calories and I wanted some fresh, invigorating air, so I set out on one of the trails. There was a hint of fall in the air as the low bush foliage was starting to turn color and there was a crispness to the air and a bite to the breeze that wasn't there just a couple of weeks before. I walked my way along the hilly pathway, passing some other brave hikers who had the same idea as me. One guy and I commented how we'd never seen the creeks and rivers looking like this before. It truly was a unique moment. I was almost to the top of the trail on the backside of the valley when this Asian photographer came past me, headed down the path back toward to the parking lot. We exchanged pleasant smiles and he said to me as he went by, "There's not much to see up there" as if I didn't know the area.
I was caught off guard... not because of the assumption that I was unfamiliar with the place but because of the comment itself. I don't know where that man has been or what he's photographed in his life or what he's seen in comparison, but his remark gave me pause when I looked around at all these incredible mountains and replayed what he'd said. In that instant, I realized something profound:
Life is all a matter of seeing.
It's not so much that we all don't have the same eyes that function the same way but the lenses we look through shape what we consider to be beautiful or important.
The subtle changes such as with the crashing brooks and streams and rivers after a rainy day are things only a local would know. When you've been coming back again and again, you learn to notice the small things. Otherwise, you grow blind and deaf and callous to the created grandeur right in front of you in a place you get to call home. But to the newcomer who passed me, it was clear that his lens - both literally and figuratively - did not match my own. He was on the hunt for something impressive... and he missed the simple beauty right in front of him. The mountains, the brook overflowing its banks, the silence of the valley only broken by the flow of rushing water, these were not enough for him. But there were exactly what I came for.
Expectations define our reality. What we are looking for is exactly what we'll find. Science proves it. Our vagal nerve that attaches to our brain is literally designed to look for patterns of predictability in order to keep us safe. Whatever we consistently experience or think of as being real and meaningful, the vagal nerve begins to look for more and more evidence that supports that belief. Over time, the brain starts to shape a perspective that shapes us until we become that which we have most beheld. This is why the lens of our life matters so greatly. Whoever you wish to someday be starts now with what you tell yourself is true. What you look for eventually turns into your reality.
This is why Jesus stated in Matthew 6:22 that "the eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light." What He meant was that our sight - our beholding - was the gateway to our very innermost being. It is not only what we physically see that defines us but the perspective with which we perceive what we see that makes all the difference in the world. That Asian man and I were standing in exactly the same spot looking at the exact same scenery. One of us thought there wasn't much to see while the other could have been there for hours in captivated wonder and awe. Our different starting points determined how we experienced and perceived that moment.
Don't let your preconceived ideas or expectations blind you to the beauty and amazement of what's right in front of you. You have this incredible moment to appreciate the wonder of life and to be fully present to what's happening around you. This precious few seconds or minutes of your life are ones you'll never get back again. They're only here once and I'd hate for you to someday regret the fact that you missed them because you weren't looking with open eyes but with sight that was blinded by false assumptions of what it was supposed to look like.
Live life with open eyes, open hands, and an open heart. You just might be surprised at what you see.
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