Listen to the wind blow...

Listen to the wind blow,
Lonely as a sigh.
Nothing overhead but empty sky.
Look up at starlight
On a dark night;
Are we all alone,
An island in space?
Or is there a plan
Where I have a place?

When I was a junior in college, I was the teaching assistant for a Geology 101 Honors class. It was a marvelous class, and a very fun first introduction to teaching geology. At the end of the semester, the class went on a field trip to Toroweap Lookout Point, Grand Canyon. As one of the TAs, I got to drive one the huge 12-passenger vans.

I didn't have a car the entire time I was in college, and so it had been 3 years since I had done any real driving. There I was, on a dirt road, driving a full van with loaded top (all our camping gear and luggage was lashed to the roof), trying to keep up with the professor's van. My windshield was covered in dust, there were alternating flashes of sun and shadow, and Dr. B. kept driving faster. 30 mph. 35. 40. Doesn't sound very fast, but it was a winding, mountain dirt road, with rocks on one side and a very steep drop-off on the other, and I felt like a 16-year-old driver again.

I was trying very hard not to panic. I slowed a little, but still didn't relax. White-knuckled, I uttered a silent prayer: Oh, Heavenly Father, don't let me crash. Don't let me kill everyone in this van. Help me to relax.

Could it be that heaven
Is man's imagining,
Reaching out for hope in childish dreams?
Stories so old then,
We've outgrown them?
Has God gone away
Or hidden His face?
Have miracles ceased to be?

Slowly, my hands released their death grip on the steering wheel. Our little caravan didn't reduce speed, but gradually I felt more and more comfortable. By the time we reached our destination, I was laughing and chatting with the students again.

But the power of God is plain to see,
There are wonders on every hand
To those who will see through eyes of faith,
Beyond the mind of man.

For how could we hope
To see His face,
Who never could see
His face?

The next morning, I lay on my belly with my nose over the edge of the canyon, looking at the Colorado River some 4000 feet straight below. An eagle soared below me, calling. It was breathtaking, awe-inspiring, enormous.

And I knew that the same God who created this grandeur; this canyon with its layered wall of millions of years, this powerful river cutting through solid rock, the wind in my hair and the eagle far below me--this same God cared enough about a frightened girl the day befo-- to send comfort, peace, and ability to her in her need. In response to a silent prayer, the Almighty God, creator of worlds, comforted His child.

Some may see a rainbow
As nothing more than light.
Others see a promise and a sign.
Everyday wonders
Without number
Are here all around
And wait to be found
By those who have eyes to see.
--The Power of God, Steven Kapp Perry