On a North Dakota morning in July, I rose before the sun to begin a leg of my journey home to Washington. In the states where the sun dares to shine all day, driving into the sunset isn’t a poetic ending, it’s a sun-blinding disaster when you get to the Rocky Mountains in Montana.
As always, my camera was standing by in automatic mode for quick shots through the windows as I drove on the country roads that were being utilized by only one car – mine.
After living nearly half my life on the prairie, I knew a new day wouldn’t merely begin.
It’s the kiss of Creation that greets us every day.
The glory reminds us there’s new mercies, new strength, and new hope for each day.
The prairie scenery, tinged with wisps of heavenly color and wrapped in fog, was a comforting and familiar friend. In my fumbling to capture the scenes searing peace into my soul, I accidentally moved a button on my camera.
When I pulled into an approach to shoot this abandoned barn, I was stunned by the image on my screen. Raw beauty stood starkly in the absence of color.
I had unknowingly changed the way I saw the world.
It’s not that we don’t enjoy the beauty of color, we long for clarity. simplicity. understanding. We want to easily identify and categorize every aspect of our lives.
Our longing for for black and white grows from real lives that can be complicated. burdensome. overwhelming. Lack of understanding and moments of weak faith may cause us to illogically pursue easy answers instead of endurance.
If only it were as easy to change our emotional and spiritual view as our view through the viewfinder.
In case the heat of the day makes us forget the promise of the morning, we’re reminded again in the evening. We can’t let our longing for black and white strip our enjoyment in creation and our loving Creator.
And that Montana sunset I was driving into? It was as resplendent as the promise of the North Dakota sunrise.