No Faith Required

When I look out from my perch of 6,000 feet elevation here in the mountains of Costa Rica, I look down at the tops of clouds and mist. I’m not sure where the differentiation is between the two so, for the most part, the terms are interchangeable.

The dramatic activity of the clouds, boiling up and performing what appears to be a wondrously choreographed drama on an otherworldly stage. I acknowledge an inner response to observing this spectacle. What very passively comes to mind is that these frollicking clouds are akin to a material display of divine playfulness.

I imagine the chaos of The Beginning. The Grand Designer turns His attention to this blank canvas. His palette is infinitely hued. “Let’s color the backdrop with “‘Green Cloaked Mountains”’ and the foreground, “‘Water Vapor’”.

“Ok”, thinks He, “I will connect this to a physiological response in the human.”

It is at these lamentably rare times that one is acutely aware of the anemic availability of language to express this moment. “Majestic?” “Inspiring?” “Really nice?”

YES! to all the above, and then some.

One must be present and just feel.

This is the soul touching equivalent to the ohso-comfortable phrase: “smell the roses”. The difference being that this fleeting event is not as optional as “do I stop or do I walk on by?”. This is an immersive and commanding performance that, with effort, one might turn away from, but likely not.

There is something quite agreeable about the reduced options in this moment. Perhaps it is more exact to say a re-ordering of one’s priorities. To have the option of gratitude served up in such a compelling manner is spiritual nourishment as we feel the words “Thank You” from deep within.

No faith required.

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