Everlasting Light

Chasing Sunsets and Seeking the Lord

I want to spend my life chasing sunsets and seeking the Lord.

I held on for dear life to the back of a golf cart at the thrilling speed of fifteen miles per hour. It had just rained, a gentle mist, a summer shower. My friend’s house sits on the shore of a lake surrounded by an enchanted forest. To me, all forests are magical, as if each time you step into the green, something extraordinary might happen. How could they not be when the Lord has designed each leaf, blade of grass, frog, and flower so fearfully, so wonderfully? Along the road, glimpses of many lakes can be seen through a shroud of dense trees, deer with white-speckled hides prancing along the outskirts, wildflowers dusting the edges, whirling by as we sang “Reckless Love”by Corey Asbury at the top of our lungs. The wind whipped my hair into a massive tangle, and a cicada flew down my shirt, causing me to screech and momentarily panic, nearly falling off the golf cart, before collapsing into a fit of laughter.

Earlier that day, and during the majority of quarantine, I felt alone, longing with all my heart for things I couldn’t have, at least not at that exact moment. I missed camp so much my heart ached. I missed Nicaragua so much I couldn’t breathe. I missed feeling the presence of the Lord I can’t feel in the same way anywhere else. Most of all, I craved the intense joy that comes from lights-out singing, hugging every child at the school in Nicaragua, flying above the clouds in a sky so beautiful strangers become friends. I wanted to sing praise around a bonfire, voice thick with smoke, fingers sticky with s’mores. I wanted to lay under stars which always seem so much brighter at camp in a time of midnight prayer. I wanted to serve rice to teachers and students and families who are not only hungry for nourishment, but hungry for a relationship with God.

Many people missed a lot of things during the coronavirus pandemic: sports, school, eating out, going to the movies. Many people also missed loved ones and church and community. Despite this, in a way, I’m thankful for the pandemic. Through it, God taught me how to choose peace amidst chaos, deal with disappointment, and find light in the dark. It wasn’t always easy. Friends got sick, protests raged across the country, all events were canceled, rescheduled, or virtual. When I found myself feeling lost, doubtful, or weary, I’d walk. I witnessed spring quietly unfurl for the first time. I watched the breath of God fill the world and make it bright once more. When I walked, I prayed. I listened to God’s whisper, surrendering everything at His feet.

My favorite time to walk is sunset. The sun drowns the world in gold as it sinks toward the horizon, dragging any morsel of doubt from my heart and melting it into wonder. “Amaze me, God.” I would whisper. And whether it was with rosy clouds fashioned in the shape of the frosted animal crackers I loved as a kid, startling laughter from deep within my chest, or the way the sinking sunlight warmed my freckled skin, thawing me from the outside in, God answered my prayer each day. Some days a particularly lovely rose would catch my eye, or a proud sunflower would humble me to the glory of God’s creation.

“My Lord, my God! I need you. Help me!” I begged.

The rustling leaves sang a song in the breeze of a Savior who was oh so near. He heard my cries. I knew that He was there. I could feel Him in my heart on those peaceful walks, in the sound of the trees and my footsteps. I fought fear with faith. I battled anxiety with trust and joy. I destroyed doubt with awe; God guided me through every step. In the dark, He lifted my head to the stars, never letting me stray, always leading me back to Him. He dried my tears and reminded me of His glory.

1 Kings 19:11-13 (NKJV) says, “Then He said, ‘Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.’ And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; after the wind was an earthquake but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice. So it was, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went and stood in the entrance of the cave. Suddenly a voice came to him, and said, ‘What are you doing here Elijah?’”

I want to spend my life chasing sunsets and seeking the Lord. I feel most content when I am walking and praying. I am satisfied, like Elijah, when I recognize the Lord’s voice and choose to listen to His quiet whisper. How can anyone see a sunset and not believe that God is real and good and alive? How can they not hear His voice?

When you reach out to others, show them God’s love, share the humble glories of God’s creation. Show them the gentle sunset, show them the delicate lily, show them calm waters and white-speckled deer prancing in meadows. Show them God’s everlasting light, one small step at a time. Show them what true joy looks like in Jesus. Show them hope, and I promise God will work in their hearts and answer your prayers if you remain patient.