How do we see God’s glory through the fog? Let me show you at the Grand Canyon.
“It doesn’t look good.” Brett studies the radar map on his phone. Dark clouds surround us as we sit in the van outside the Visitor Center.
“Let’s buy some umbrellas just in case. Maybe it will pass over us,” I respond. Normally, I’m the realist. But after driving almost four hours to see the Grand Canyon, I couldn’t admit that this adventure was going to be a tremendous disappointment.
By the time Brett buys umbrellas at the closest general store, and we pull up to the state park, the rain is coming down without a chance of stopping anytime soon.
“Ugh!!! You have got to be kidding me! The Varvel Curse strikes again.” My anger is rising up within me, and the tune of “The Story of My Life” by One Direction plays in my head.
We find a parking spot as the rain is sporadic. Within a few minutes it slows. “Now or never” we decide. All of us quickly jump out of the van and quickly scurry to the nearest path to take us to the canyon. The rain starts again as I’m pushing the double stroller, Kherington and Damon hide under the umbrellas, and Brett runs back to the van because in our hurry we forgot one. An umbrella, not a child thankfully.
Finally, we all arrive at the rim. I had imagined my very first glance of the Grand Canyon to be one of jaw-dropping amazement. What I see was a massive valley being swallowed up by a thick, white fog. Well, what I had seen in pictures was a massive valley, but in person I am unable to see very deep nor far. The canyon isn’t the only thing being swallowed by fog. My bitter attitude is casting a haze over the experience.
“This is SO like Satan!” I shout out to the canyon not caring who hears me. I’m reminded of the discussion I had two days ago with the kids. I explained how Satan’s mission is to kill, steal, and destroy. This is exactly one of those moments, where he is attempting to steal my view of the glory of God and His majesty through creation. He also is trying to destroy my outlook. I fight tears as I look out into the gloomy abyss because my expectations are crushed.
We make the best of it. We ask a bystander to take a picture of our family.
I am determined not to let my bitterness ruin this possible once-in-a-lifetime experience, so to fight back I pull up Psalm 104 on my YouVersion Bible app. I read aloud in worship, hoping anyone near me can hear:
“My soul, praise Yahweh! Lord my God, You are very great; You are clothed with majesty and splendor…he established the earth on its foundations; it will never be shaken. You covered it with the deep as if it were a garment; the waters stood above the mountains. At Your rebuke the waters fled; at the sound of Your thunder they hurried away — mountains rose and valleys sank into the place You established for them.”
I continue, “This is the Scripture that was written thousands of years ago that talks about this very canyon. The mountains and valleys that were formed after the flood!”
Just because I can’t see the full magnitude right now, doesn’t take away the truth and meaning of this place. I will choose to worship in the midst of the fog and the unseen.
Watch video to view and hear the storm.
When the rain starts to come down harder, we find shelter in the park store. The line of customers is wrapped around the store, as most people are waiting to purchase ponchos.
I’m chasing a twin through the crowd of people, as Brett contemplates a plan. “What if we go home and come back tomorrow?”
“No way. It would be too much for the kids. It will be eight hours in the car already today.”
Brett nods his head, but he is still hesitant because we are all freezing. My hands are numb. All our shoes are soaked. Not only did I fail to look at the weather beforehand, I failed to remember that the higher the altitude, the colder the temperature. (Blame living in flat Indiana). We were dressed for 90 degrees like back in Wickenburg when we left earlier, while it was in the 50s here.
I desperately look outside again and notice another break in the rain. “Let’s go again. Let’s do as much as we can, and then drive around and call it a day.” A complete failure of a day, I keep to myself.
We don’t last long. The rain isn’t stopping. The twins are irritable, wanting us to hold them. We trudge back to the van and go for a drive around the park. Meanwhile, Brett studies the radar again. “Look!” he says. I lean over to look at his phone. “I think it’s going to pass soon!”
I glance back at the twins who fell asleep immediately during the drive. “OK. What if we continue to drive for a bit so the twins can nap longer, get an early dinner, and then come back?”
An hour or so later, the dark clouds leave, opening up a blue sky with white clouds. We eagerly make our way back to the rim. “Just wait,” Brett says excitedly. “If we time it right, the sun will set, shine through the break in the clouds, and cast its light over the canyon!”
Sure enough, we stand at an overlook watching the sun slowly descend. The sunbeams break through the clouds, lighting up the canyon. We are mesmerized by the grandness, vastness, and magnificence of it all. At one point, both boys reach out into the sky with one hand, as if praising the Lord. Even Roman learns to say, “WOW!”
The haze and fog are gone. The sight is clear as I view as deep, far, and wide as I can see.
We take it all in. I even manage to attempt my “traveling handstand” without falling off the cliff. OK, it wasn’t on the very edge. I’m not that much of a daredevil!
I didn’t want to leave. Brett mentions how someday it would be meaningful to come alone, sit for hours, and worship the Lord. But with four kids in tow who are wet, cold, and tired, it was time to head back to Wickenburg.
“You know what would be amazing to finish this day?” I ask Brett as we make our way back to the van. “If there was a…”
I come around a curve in the path, and there in the sky…shooting up into the clouds…
“…a rainbow!”
At this point everyone is pointing and shouting and jumping and running to chase the rainbow in front of us.
“Mom, there are TWO!” A second rainbow is parallel to the first.
Brett runs to the parking lot to get the best shot before it disappears. Kherington and Damon follow after him, leaving me to chase the twins around the path. Several people pass by, smiling, laughing, and pointing at how cute the twins are. I smile back, but my joy is not returned because of their comments. My joy is overflowing watching my two rainbow babies under the double rainbow.
“Yes, God, this is SO like you.”
➤When life doesn’t meet my expectations and plans, I blame and become bitter in self-pity.
Because my way is best, right, and fair.
➤When the fog of life covers up my viewpoint, I believe the lies of abandonment, loneliness, and FOMO (fear of missing out), or my translation: the fear of God withholding something better from me.
Because I demand to know, understand, and have answers.
➤When the process takes too long, I become discontent, envious, and try harder, do more.
Because the quantifiable end result is what really matters.
In all of this, I believe what I see. Yet I fail to truly see because my perspective is faulty. My outlook has no bearing on truth. The vastness of the Canyon was distorted through my eyes, yet the reality of the Canyon had not changed. Why do I rely on my own sight?
The One who sent a rainstorm, allowed the flood waters to rise and fall breaking the ground into mountains and valleys, and shining rays of light to bring forth strips of color in the sky was present then and present now. The Alpha and the Omega. The Beginning and the End. The One who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Why do I not rely on His sight?
I would have chosen the sun from the beginning in fear of missing out, while God was withholding the sun initially to bring about something even better. The very fear I have of Him withholding from me actually IS to bring about something even better for me.
You may be in the downpour. You may be looking ahead and only see gloom and despair. You may be catching a glimpse of the sun coming up over the horizon. You may be dancing under the rainbow.
Each of these moments are important. Not wasted. Holy Ground. Because God is near. God is within. God is active.
So we worship in the wait. In the unseen. In the failed expectations.
Because God isn’t going to only make it sunny. His fulfilled promises are guaranteed in rainbows. The result may not be what you had pictured as a rainbow, but He’s bringing about something even better…
His glory will shine through your foggy circumstance…and you won’t see anything else…
but Him.
“The Story of My Life” is overshadowed by a new tune as we walk away from the mountains, valleys, and rainbows that were established after a storm…
“Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in His wonderful face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.”
Read how the Lord was present in my valleys and storms to bring about life and hope. Get your copy of Living Hope.
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