My heart tightened in my chest. My eyes widened. My breath caught—then spilled out in a torrent of laughter.
I stood on a hill surrounded by farmland on all but one side, where the sea met a cliff’s edge and winked with every silver splash. The distant hills of the Highlands had turned a royal purple with the setting sun and the world was cast in golds and blues and pinks, the colors of wonder.
Sheep decorated the hillside, as if each was intentionally placed, and stood upon a tall crag nearby—perfect silhouettes against the ruby-colored sky.
Down below, nestled between the sea and the folds of the surrounding hills, lay a town—a “royal borough” as the friendly locals called it—just on the edge of sleep. The windows of its houses glowed faintly, and as the sun slipped from the valley, those pockets of light gave the illusion that a net of golden stars rested upon the place.
Glancing toward the sea I was treated with yet another great sight. Rising from the low-hanging clouds above the sea was a nearly-full moon. It was one of those glorious autumn moons that seem to grow to twice its normal size along the horizon. As it hung in a pink and purple sky, it looked more like a great pearl button on a cushion of silk than a heavenly body thousands of miles away.
I am well prepared to face most kinds of beauty, but this place took my breath away in the truest sense of that phrase. It arrested my heart, and I hope—I pray—it never lets me go for the wonder it has given me in return. As I gazed upon it all, the sheer splendor was almost more than I could bear. So I sank to my knees and laughter broke from my lips. Why? Because there was nothing else I could do at that point, but laugh.
With this laughter came a feeling deep in my soul that this was one of the best ways of all to discover God. When face-to-face with beauty of this magnitude, time slows, “reality” pauses and the wonder of the moment takes your heart to new heights. Resting upon that hill felt like a glimpse of a truer reality. As if waking from a dream, I had a feeling that I was being let in on some great secret—that this was the heart of God. No hymns sung off-key in a quiet church could quite compare to the majesty and mastery of God in His element. This is the God I know. This is the God I worship. This is the reality He calls us to.
There is a richness in this arresting beauty that refuses to be commodified. It cannot be bought or sold, yet it can be sought. And only in the seeking will we realize that we were the ones being sought all along. C.S. Lewis—and countless other great writers—have noted that even if a person were to never hear the gospel or read a bible, they could still come to know God and how he pursues us through the world He created. In just a single sunset I discovered how true that could be.
