Swaying Freely

I went to the mountains seeking majesty. I found humility instead. Surrounded by the greatness of God I saw how small and I insignificant I am. Gazing down the canyons at cars that look like my Plum’s toys, I lost my sense of importance. My troubles evaporated with the morning fog. I found majesty and myself.

My Plum is an avid rock collector, his window sill is lined with specimens from his travels. He has more stored under his bed, where the real treasures are. How he determines which to take is beyond me, yet we never go anywhere without a new one sliding into my purse ready to join his collection at home. Along this trip, I have watched for rocks that might delight my boy, special sizes, shapes, indications of where I have been. Being on the motorcycle I have to be choosy.

I found some pieces of the mountain that show all the colors, determined to bring back exactly what I was seeing. As I look at the vastness of these rocks raising up to the heavens, it is easy to see one big rock. The tiny slivers I have stored away remind me that God made those mountains out of billions of slivers, billions of colors joined together to create the majestic scene before me.  The red canyon isn’t really just red, but made up of glory in the shape of wildflowers, sage brush, multicolored rock. I am humbled and yet encouraged that my place in this world is necessary to fill out the palette. What if all the tiny greens were removed? The richness would be gone.

I am no more significant than the tiny flower growing on the hillside but God planted that flower. God planted me as well. I hope to embrace my color, to shed my fear of standing up and swaying in the breeze. I found my majesty. I am humbled. I am emboldened.

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