Wide Open

We had been walking along a narrow trail in the woods for a while now, surrounded on both sides by trees and brush. I like the comfort of the woods, maybe because I feel like I am snuggled up and tucked away somewhere wild and safe. 

But I sensed we were getting closer when the foliage started to thin a little to the right, and we began to catch glimpses of the valley below. I knew that we had arrived when the trees stopped in their tracks, as if they were afraid to step out on the large rock jutting out before us. I stepped out onto the rock, no longer surrounded by the protection of the forrest, into a wide open space with only thin, cool, whispy air. I walked to the very tip, wondering if my weight could possible shift the ledge, yet trusting that nothing could possibly move this massive, ancient rock that reaches out over the Ozark Mountains. 

In that moment of exposure, I looked out over the vast valley below me - which had been covered up from my sight by the trees only a few moments ago - and let my eyes drift from hillside to hillside, tracing the path of the river with my eyes, trying to take it all in. In those breathtaking moments, I am overwhelmed with one feeling. The feeling of smallness. 

I love feeling so small. Maybe that's why I love wide open spaces, like mountain summits and fields of wildflowers and towering bluffs and mountain valleys between the Rockies. Feeling small means you are in the presence of grandeur. It means you are a part of something bigger, something greater than yourself. It means there is more to life than what you feel in the comfort of the woods, surrounded by trees - there are wide open spaces that take your breath away, make your feet quiver, and beckon you to just take one step further into the open. 

Smallness is standing in awe and wonder at the greatness. Smallness is worship of the Great One. 

Smallness is seeing yourself in perspective - like a sinner in need of a Savior, like a jar of clay in the hands of a Potter, like a servant at the feet of the Master, like a tiny vessel that is a part of a much greater mission, like a little candle shining in a dark world. 

2 Corinthians 6:11-13 in the Message says it this way:

"Dear, dear Corinthians, I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively."

Whitaker's point is one of Arkansas' most famous landmarks, but very few actually find their way to it. That's because it is a little bit off the beaten path. There are no signs, just a dirt road that wiggles its way up the mountain to a secret and sacred place. But I encourage you to find your way there, not just to Whitaker's point, but to some spectacular, spiritual, wide-open space. It is when we feel so small that we truly glimpse the greatness of God. Let's strive to reach a place in our lives where we step out of our comfort and onto the Rock. It is there that we see the vastness and beauty of who God is, and we are beckoned to take one step closer and to feel the freedom of hanging our legs over the edge, trusting in the one who holds us up and will never let us fall.