God's Fingerprints on My Crayons

God leaves his fingerprints everywhere.

Of course, finding them can present a daunting challenge. We claw, tearing off our heart’s fingernails, trying to uncover even one tangible token of hope. We’re not dumb. We know the world abuses everyone regardless of social, cultural, or political persuasion. Fortunately, on rare, serendipitous days, we suddenly plunge deep into a refreshing torrent that massages soul muscles we forgot we had.

Last week four of us rafted and hiked along the base of the Grand Teton Mountains. I expected beauty and anticipated quiet. And I received all that. But wonder set a trap and awe ambushed me. The God who created the entire universe—yes, I’m an astronomy nerd enchanted by stars, solar systems, nebulas, and galaxies—left a piece right here for touching, smelling, seeing, and hearing. No telescope required. Just as music and stories bypass my Scrooge-like thinking and lance my heart, so did quiet water and immense majesty touch the deep place where my dreams are born.

I know some folks relegate hills, rocks, and trees to chance encounters between random particles and dispassionate energy. But others, looking past the surface, glimpse the Creator’s hand still at work, still beckoning. As I sat by the lake with Regina, I remembered. He gives each of us a unique portion of himself to share, kind of like every kindergartner getting his or her own crayon. When I use the talents and opportunities he gives me, he joins them with the deeds of others and uses all that to continue his work.