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I awoke this morning to the sight of a clear, bright blue sky. The air was crisp, but warm enough to have the windows open. The complex I live in was still quiet and sleepy looking. The children had not yet left their apartments to tease the dogs next door and make them bark. Even my small apartment looks magical when the light of an Arizona morning is coming through the blinds. Those of you who have never experienced winter in the Arizona deserts have no idea what you are missing.
I grew up in central Michigan where the summers are short and muggy, and the winters are long and frigid. I may have known intellectually that the weather could be better somewhere else, but it was never real to me until my first winter outside the state. I have never been the same since. The weather is only a piece of it though. There is something about the countryside here that helps me to put things back into the proper perspective. One cannot experience the sheer size and power of the desert landscape without realizing just how small we all are in the grand scheme of things. Yet, the interconnectedness of life in the desert also teaches us that we are all a part of the whole. As I was heading back home to Phoenix yesterday afternoon from where I work in Scottsdale, I came up over the top of the rather large hill on McDowell Road by the Papago Buttes. I could see the sun setting behind the mountains off in the distance. There was one small wisp of a cloud in the sky. It was a slightly different shade of pink than the sky had turned as the distant mountains were back lighted in gold. In the foreground of this panorama was the city of Phoenix. The street lights had come on but it was not yet dark. I could see the small groupings of skyscrapers in the newer downtown section, as well as those in the older southern portion. I could even make out the outlines of B.O.B (the Bank One Ballpark). The Estrella Mountains were to the south of the city, and the White Tank Mountains to the west. I remember my heart beating faster as I saw this marvel in the middle of the desert. Tears came to my eyes, and my heart was moved, as it always has been since the very first time I beheld the wonder of this place. I could not help saying out loud, “Oh God, you do good work!” Then looking at the city, I had to add, “And from time to time, so do we.” This is one of the lessons I have learned recently. The piece of God that is inside us all can be, and sometimes is, tapped into. In those times, humans are also capable of creativity on a monumental scale. I cannot look at the place I live in without realizing the potential we all hold within us. So, in one glance, I go from the inspirational, humbling desert vistas that make me love God, to the sights of the city that make me dream. Yes, I cannot help but feel blessed! I live in the center of this wonder. May I never forget to say, as long as I live, thank you God! You show me your love and your beauty every day! You speak to me, and I hear your voice in the sound of the wind. I am awed by your power in the mountains that surround me. You let me live here, and I love you for it! May we all be worthy of what you have given us. © 1999 by D. Ron Mack Written 1/2/1999 |
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