This post today comes from legend Dave Guthrie. It’s an honor when your dad wants to contribute and it’s especially cool because the blog wouldn’t be in existence without his influence on my life. His reflections below are from last year during the Lenten season as he traveled through the Mid-West:
I found out something about myself yesterday while driving across Kansas. With birthday number 60 looming in less than one week, it was also nice to know that learning never ends.
Here is what I found out: I love the horizon. And, let me tell you, I saw a lot of it traveling across the Kansas plain. It was mesmerizing. I kept looking left, then right, then left, then right…for six hours. At times I told myself that I should try to look straight ahead more; to keep my eyes on the road. But it was hard to do that with the expansive horizon on either side that kept beckoning to me.
On a mostly sunny day, the horizon is so clear and crisp. And that’s what I couldn’t take my eyes from. It wasn’t as if I was unaware of all of the things peppered across the Kansas landscape—the cattle, the wind turbines, the farmland, the silos, the splotches of trees and small ponds, the rich soil, the small drilling rigs, and the like. It’s just that the horizon was the main attraction.
I will admit that, at times, I wish my car could have floated about 100 feet higher so that I could see what was creating a trail of dust, or to see more than just the tips of wind turbines, or to be able to count more of the herd of buffalo. But, most of the time, the horizon was all-consuming. In fact, I didn’t have the radio on for more than fifteen minutes or so for the entire Kansas-crossing—enough to hear a Catholic priest’s sermon on the transfiguration of Jesus, followed by a person singing “Were you there (when they crucified my Lord?).” But the horizon—the horizon was enough.
The horizon is where heavens meet earth. Six hours of seeing heavens meeting earth…of being vividly reminded that heaven has met earth, and continues to meet earth. God—maker, sustainer, redeemer, friend, restorer.
Six hours doesn’t seem near long enough to be reminded of something so vital.