Roses and all...

David Hume once wrote, "Beauty in things exist merely in the mind which contemplates them."

Often times when I am stressed or in a particularly contemplative mood, I go in search of beauty. Some of the beauty I find, will only be beautiful to me, because I agree with Hume's statement, beauty exists in the mind that is contemplating its beauty. Art is a prime example, what is beautiful to one, will not be to another. But I am not here to really discuss if Hume was correct in his statement, I am simply here to share the beauty that I found.

Yesterday, I found myself in Sewanee, and if you have never been there, please go. The natural beauty that exists within this small town is beyond words.

Anyhow, I found myself in one of those particularly contemplative moods, and went to one of my favorite places, sitting at the foot of a cross. My most deep thinking is found while sitting at the foot of a cross, sometimes metaphorically but on this occasion, physically.

Hidden down a road made of small hills is tucked away a memorial cross that opens up to the hillside below. This memorial cross is a memorial to those who have served in several different wars. I have been to this cross several times, and have taken photos at different times of day and at different angles. But last night, as I approached the cross, the sun was mostly gone, and the cross was beautifully lit up. As I approached the cross with my camera, I saw two roses and a jar sitting on the top step. As I got closer to photograph the two roses, I saw that they had to have been sitting there a while, because they were dried out.  I took several photos, spent some time just sitting and thinking, got in my car and left. 

As I drove down the interstate heading back home, those roses just stuck in my mind. I began to think of what they meant or who left them. I pictured someone leaving those roses as a memorial for someone that they lost in one of the wars. I pictured a person who had no where else to turn but to that cross, to that sacred space, and they left the roses as a sign of giving something to God. I pictured a beautiful proposal that took place at the overlook, and they left two roses as a sign of their love for not only each other, but for what that place represented.

The story could be absolutely anything. 

 I don't know why those two roses were left there, but as I thought about it, I wondered why I found solace in that place. Its the presence of God in such a place. Its the wind in my hair as I sit and see the creativity of God in the hills, the woods, the sky, and all of the surroundings of that cross. 

To see those two roses sitting at the foot of the cross, combined with all of the ways that I typically experience God in that place, reminded me of perspective. Sometimes I see the world through such small glasses, it narrows my view to only the immediate, and it hinders me from seeing what is to come or what could come. And it may be because I have experienced those short sighted glasses recently that this came to mind, but as I looked at the cross and the roses that sat beneath it, my thought was, "no one could have known what that cross would mean while Jesus hung on it. No one saw the bigger picture. But He did."

Why is it so easy to simply look as far as you can see, and because you can't see any further, stop looking? 

Choose to see the beauty. Choose to see the potential in the world around you. Choose to see the cross as Christ saw it, not as a means to an end, but to a whole new beginning.

Why is choosing this route so scary? My guess is because there is no guarantee in it. It is literally walking by faith. It is hard. 

I want to choose it. I have chosen it time and again. I want to see the roses, and remember the perspective that those roses brought. I pray that the roses continue to appear, because the reality is I need to be reminded to see the potential.