I stepped out on the third floor terrace to feel the cool, crisp morning air on my skin. Shadows from the rising sun covered the floor and wall behind me. While sipping weak coffee and reading in my One Year Bible, I lifted my eyes to take it all in. To wait on the Lord. To be still and know that He is God.
The hum of cars driving down the congested highway 66 echoes off the building. The sight of 60-somethings taking golf clubs out of their trunks and hovering around carts to begin their first round are right across the parking lot full of dew covered cars. People packing up their belongings and saying goodbye to another successful vacation stay. Blue shirted employees arriving for the day to clean up after other people's holidays.
A breeze blows in and the goose bumps cover my arms and lower legs. I see one tree below me already telling the story of autumn while many others are still holding on to summer. At the edge of the golf course I see the reason these "mountains" are called smokey. Socked in low lying clouds make their home in the landscape. The sun rises higher keeping my eyes from turning east. The glistening circular spider webs tell of many who have made their homes here on this very terrace before me. People who have come and gone and contemplated the lives they will be returning to at days end.
Grounds keepers are already edging grass and trucks are busy delivering items for another resort day. Life is happening. And yet do they know what all this bustling is for? Do they realize their very lives are not their own? And arguably worse yet, do they know and still live this life, this day for self?
"You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body." 1 Corinthians 6: 19-20.
I owe everything to Him. The One who paid it all for me. I owe this day, this moment, my attitude, my body, my life to the one who paid my ransom. When people see me, do they see Christ? Or do they have to peel away the layers like an onion of self before realizing the truth I know and believe in my heart and soul? Does my face, my countenance tell the story of his grace? Am I living THIS moment...and THIS moment...for me or Him who is the author of this day?
He is bathing me in his sunlight and kissing me with the cool fall breeze. He is singing me a lullaby of road traffic and distant conversation and lawn tools. He is hugging me with settling "smoke" in the mountains and reminding me of the story of my life he has written in dozens of spider webs.
He paid it all. Am I not willing to give my life to Him?