In November, I had the assignment to speak in the Garrisonville, Virginia Ward of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as part of my assignment as a member of the Stafford, Virginia Stake High Council. The theme was “Be still and know I am God”. Among the ideas and stories I shared there were two that was the focus. I spoke of the peace that comes from serving in the temple.
I also shared a story about one of our family spring-break trips when we visited Mount Rushmore. When you go, there are two highways approaching from the south. The first is a modern multi-lane nearly straight freeway. We used that one to visit the giant stone sculpture. Once there we were all impressed with the scale of the work, and we gained some appreciation for how much effort it must have taken. We saw many people there from different states and countries. I’d say that part of the visit was worth the effort.
It was after we left, though, that we had a unique Black Hills experience. The other highway is not modern. It is two-lane, twisty-turny, and sometimes passes through drilled out portions of rock. As we left Mount Rushmore and headed south on this road, a few miles south of the monument we found a little turn-off, so we stopped and got out of the car to stretch our legs. Unlike at the monument, there were no other people but us. We found a set of boulders that rimmed a small cliff-edge from where we could look back the few miles we had traversed and see the sculptures from afar.
We decided to just be silent for five minutes and see what we noticed. You might note, this is no small task when you have small children in the mix. As we talked after, there were some common themes. Looking back at the sculpture that seems so impressive up close, now was sort of like a scratching on the side of one mountain. At the same time we were surrounded by many mountains of various shapes, sizes and colors. It was a sunny day with light puffy clouds that moved with the cool breeze. As the clouds moved the colors around us shifted. We could hear small birds and other animals, and see a few of them flying or scurrying about. There was a heavy scent of pine in the air. We could hear the blowing of the breezes at different volumes as it sifted through the trees. We could feel the changing flow of the air on our faces as it passed by us.
The message we all seemed to get in our discussion was how great man’s artistic talent is, but that talent comes from God. Then when one contrasts man’s art with the art of God’s creation, man’s effort pales in comparison.
Over the few weeks following my talk to the Garrisonville Ward, I took my own advice and made some time. My wife and I drove to Philadelphia on a Friday after work. We spent the night in a hotel and on Saturday morning we put in a few hours of service in the temple. As always, we were both uplifted and inspired. The next Saturday morning we helped clean the Courthouse chapel. When we were done I took my camera and went for a hike in The Crow’s Nest nature preserve near our home in Stafford. I walked down to a backwater bog known as The Birding Pond. I only sat there for 30 minutes. With the hike on either side it took me just over an hour. It was worth the effort. I’ll share a few pictures with you that resulted.
I hope each of us will make time to be still. In those moments of stillness, look for the comfort that reminds us of our loving Heavenly Father.
Below are a few pictures I took at The Birding Pond that Saturday.
I also shared a story about one of our family spring-break trips when we visited Mount Rushmore. When you go, there are two highways approaching from the south. The first is a modern multi-lane nearly straight freeway. We used that one to visit the giant stone sculpture. Once there we were all impressed with the scale of the work, and we gained some appreciation for how much effort it must have taken. We saw many people there from different states and countries. I’d say that part of the visit was worth the effort.
It was after we left, though, that we had a unique Black Hills experience. The other highway is not modern. It is two-lane, twisty-turny, and sometimes passes through drilled out portions of rock. As we left Mount Rushmore and headed south on this road, a few miles south of the monument we found a little turn-off, so we stopped and got out of the car to stretch our legs. Unlike at the monument, there were no other people but us. We found a set of boulders that rimmed a small cliff-edge from where we could look back the few miles we had traversed and see the sculptures from afar.
We decided to just be silent for five minutes and see what we noticed. You might note, this is no small task when you have small children in the mix. As we talked after, there were some common themes. Looking back at the sculpture that seems so impressive up close, now was sort of like a scratching on the side of one mountain. At the same time we were surrounded by many mountains of various shapes, sizes and colors. It was a sunny day with light puffy clouds that moved with the cool breeze. As the clouds moved the colors around us shifted. We could hear small birds and other animals, and see a few of them flying or scurrying about. There was a heavy scent of pine in the air. We could hear the blowing of the breezes at different volumes as it sifted through the trees. We could feel the changing flow of the air on our faces as it passed by us.
The message we all seemed to get in our discussion was how great man’s artistic talent is, but that talent comes from God. Then when one contrasts man’s art with the art of God’s creation, man’s effort pales in comparison.
Over the few weeks following my talk to the Garrisonville Ward, I took my own advice and made some time. My wife and I drove to Philadelphia on a Friday after work. We spent the night in a hotel and on Saturday morning we put in a few hours of service in the temple. As always, we were both uplifted and inspired. The next Saturday morning we helped clean the Courthouse chapel. When we were done I took my camera and went for a hike in The Crow’s Nest nature preserve near our home in Stafford. I walked down to a backwater bog known as The Birding Pond. I only sat there for 30 minutes. With the hike on either side it took me just over an hour. It was worth the effort. I’ll share a few pictures with you that resulted.
I hope each of us will make time to be still. In those moments of stillness, look for the comfort that reminds us of our loving Heavenly Father.
Below are a few pictures I took at The Birding Pond that Saturday.
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