I Lift My Eyes
During my sabbaticals I awake each morning and close my eyes each evening to the ever-changing Sangre de Cristo (that is Spanish for blood of Christ) mountain range. These final peaks of the Rockies are so named because they take on a reddish glow at sunset, most often when the mountains are covered with snow and the alpenglow occurs. It is truly a holy place (that’s the English translation for Santa Fe).
I often speak and write on the scientifically proven power of nature. I love that data now supports what I’ve known since I was a child: My best problem-solving, my highest creativity and my deepest connection to God occurs not in my office, nor at my computer or wait for it—in church— but in nature. Regardless of forest, mountain, river, ocean or your own backyard, it is nature that renews us. But more importantly for us to remember, it is not nature but the Creator of creation who provides that healing and protects us.
As I look onto Sangre de Cristos this morning, I am reminded of this beautiful scripture found in Psalm 121:
I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you— the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life;
the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.
As you walk out onto your ranch or farm, stroll through your neighborhood park, as you wade through the waves crashing on the beach, sit on your back deck, or like us, hike up into the mountains—say a prayer of thanksgiving not only for creation but for the protection and provision provided by the Creator, himself. As our eyes feast on his glorious creation, what peace and joy it is to know that he indeed is keeping watch over us.