God Loves, Man Kills

For some inexplicable reason, I was reminded of that title the other night as I watched traffic ebb and flow across the Tennessee River. My proximity to a quaint little park affords me the luxury of peaceful late night strolls along the river bank. All manner of planes, trains, and automobiles were joined by dozens of boats hoping to catch a glimpse of the Memorial Day fireworks display at Point Mallard. Indeed, the echoing booms were impressive, but my eye was on the lurid ballet of vehicles.

On one level, I could marvel at man's concrete utopia of ambition and accomplishment. There was a beauty to the logical lines of halide headlamps streaming hither and yon. However, beyond the logical concrete was the chaos of nature and all it's wonders. Hundreds of trees, lapping waves, shifting clouds, and a chirping chorus of arthropods conspired to create a utopia far more magnificent than that of man's, but you had to be able to see beyond man's bright lights to appreciate it.

I may not be able to fully understand the love that went into this world's creation, and sometimes it is difficult to see through to the heart of nature's chaotic masterpiece. But if only for a moment, I'd like to think that my gaze pierced through to the very core of it all, where all the years behind me and all the years ahead of me stretched out in an unwavering line. I have never been more sure of who I am and what my purpose is.

And for this life, I shall be eternally grateful.


( And oh yeah, Guitar Hero rocks! )