Recognizing Beauty (Even amid Destruction and Pain)

I had every intention to write this post yesterday, but I didn't do it. Instead I said to myself, "I'll just write it while sitting in Starbucks tomorrow afternoon." It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Then today came. I wanted to write about recognizing beauty -- about how God has helped me grow in doing so this year. I wanted to declare that I am learning about how beautiful the world is which is helping me discover more of the beauty of God.

Then today happened. It's been a day of destruction and pain. Those are strong words, but nothing else seems to fit well. 

At first, I was so bitter. I didn't want to write about beauty. Today has been a day of struggling to see beauty. 

But I am choosing to believe that there is purpose in my delay. I am choosing to believe that God is teaching me to recognize beauty when the destruction and pain appear to be winning. So here we are with the following post which will be so far from what I originally desired for it to be but hopefully much closer to the truth about God.

When I was in high school, my friends would jokingly and not so jokingly call me a pessimist. I would always reply, "I'm not a pessimist. I'm a realist." There is no "glass half full" or "glass half empty"; the glass is and it contains its contents. It was once fuller or emptier and will most likely continue in its decrease or increase unless someone intervenes. I'm a realist, but in our world, that often seems to align with the pessimistic viewpoint than the optimistic.

I can easily become so focused on facts on and tasks. However, over the past two years, God has been helping me slow down and simply enjoy: enjoy him, enjoy life, enjoy creation, enjoy being in awe of the world. 

April was a really good month for that. We were in Macedonia and saying Macedonia is beautiful is a strong understatement. Thankfully, Macedonia isn't the only place we have seen beauty this year. It's everywhere. 

There's beauty in backyard fields in Ukraine.

And in fall flourishing in parks.

There's beauty in masterpiece buildings.

And in new views.

There's beauty in lifelong love proclaimed on a bridge.

 And in big old cities.

There's beauty in sunsets at the sea.

And in national parks -- even in winter.

There's beauty in a city built around waterways.

And in so many sunsets.

There's beauty in ancient ruins.

And in not-so-ancient Mopars in the mountains.

There's beauty in sunshine beaming down into a park.

And in a stunning city view during brunch.

There's beauty in boat rides.

And in clear, still lakes surrounded by mountains. 

There's beauty in canyons and rivers. 

 And in colorful fields.

There's beauty in life beginning in the most unlikely places.

And in flying above a new familiar.

There's beauty hidden among the crowds of tourists at architectural wonders.

There is so much beauty. I want to see it. I want to stop and soak it in. I want to slow down so that I can recognize beauty in everything.

I am realizing that I love traveling. I love seeing the world. I like to explore and uncover the small miracles taking place: seasons changing, old buildings still standing, nature surviving. The depths of me crave it. I want to slowly let it penetrate all of me. I need beauty to point me back to my hope.

I mentioned earlier that it’s been a hard day. I woke up to a Facebook post saying that a childhood friend died. It wasn’t a total surprise. She’s been sick. My mom has been giving me weekly updates saying that this would happen soon. Everyone had time to be prepared.

But I wasn’t prepared. I was shocked. I was still praying for a miracle believing that God really could heal her in incredible ways. He could have. He didn’t do it in the ways I asked him to though.

That friend and I haven’t really talked since she moved away for college after we graduated high school. I still see her family whenever I go to my parents’ church, but she and I always missed each other on our trips home.

This morning, I was reminded of the sting of death. It hurt. Death is terrible. I know Jesus’ response to death is intense; he hates it too. He wept for his friend who died. Jesus defeated death. I know that’s true, but there’s still pain involved in witnessing and hearing of death. There’s still pain involved in this beautiful gift of life.

There’s destruction too. Lies abound, and if we begin to believe them, they can destroy us. They can destroy entire communities.

Some days, or rather most days, it’s easy for me to get caught up in that reality: Life contains significant pain, death, and lies. My eyes are limited to and focused on the immediate problem.

But I’m trying to make every day a day focused on hope. Jesus overcame death. God promises redemption to those who trust in Jesus. This is not the end. God redeems. He makes things new. He makes beautiful things, and I am blessed with the opportunity to witness that in my own life and in the world. Those truths from him are significant.

The Word points us back to the truth in which we can hope and trust. I’ve known that since I’ve known the truth, and I grow in my understanding of that each year. Lately, I’ve been learning that the beauty in the world can point us back to the truth as well. Little pieces of redeemed nature reflecting his glory remind me of my own redemption meant to reflect his glory.

Maybe that's why I want to recognize more beauty. I want to recognize God. I want to see how he's at work. I don't want to let my limited vision or my "realistic" (or maybe pessimistic) viewpoint get in the way. 

I want to recognize beauty even amid destruction and pain. It was hard to do today, but I saw some beauty. I am confident I will see more tomorrow and the day after and every day to come. There is beauty. We just have to slow down sometimes to recognize it. 

Where have you been seeing beauty lately?