DAILY BLOG

I experienced joy while riding today. To explain, I need to reference something I wrote in The Myth of Happiness:

Inside every great work of art is a piece of the artist himself, a fingerprint that the master permanently leaves behind on his creation. Pick any Shakespeare tragedy; it’s brilliant prose will never be confused with another author’s work. A Rembrandt portrait can’t help but stand out among a gallery of lesser paintings. So too in the age of movies, an M. Night Shyamalan film like Signs or Sixth Sense has a distinct style from other thrillers you’ll find playing at your local multiplex.

In much the same way, God leaves his fingerprints all over creation. The whole universe, in fact, screams of his creative genius. Just a quick trip to the Colorado Rockies or Niagara Falls can even convince a skeptic of God’s power and might. However, I am coming to realize that God does more than just demonstrate his awesome strength in the world; he also reveals his joy.

“Shout with joy to God, all the earth,” says the Psalmist in Psalm 66. He continues in later psalms. “All the trees of the forest will sing for joy,” goes Psalm 96. Psalm 98 adds, “Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy.” The Psalmist was obviously using anthropomorphism in these passages for poetic purposes. However, I wonder if he was alluding to a deeper truth as well—the idea that God’s creation does, in a very real way display the joy of the Lord.

Most of the things that I come in contact with on a daily basis are ordinary and commonplace. Concrete, computers, and coconuts, for instance, are strictly earthly stuff. We make or grow, and use or consume them. They’re around for awhile, but they never last. The happiness and pleasure that we encounter in our lives falls into this category. I can take a cool swim on a sultry summer day, eat a warm slice of blueberry pie, and witness a dog licking the face of my son. Each of these simple delights touch my senses or tickle my emotions for the brief moments in which I experience them. But once they are done, I rarely think about them any further.

Not everything this world has to offer is so commonplace, however. There are things that I can experience that mysteriously go beyond “normal life.” A great work of music, art, or literature. A powerful worship service. Or a majestic mountain landscape. In an unexplainable way, these experiences take me beyond my ordinary world and give me a taste of the eternal. They give me joy. “There is not one blade of grass,” said the Protestant reformer John Calvin, “there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.” The French poet Paul Claudel had a similar reaction when he first listened to Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, remarking, “Now I know that at the heart of the universe there is joy.”

We started off the morning biking on a tree covered road that goes from Nathrop to the old ghost town of St. Elmo at the base of Mt. Princeton. It was lightly raining and was a chilly 48 degrees, but something about the windy ride through the mountain valley gave me a taste of what I wrote about in Myth above. I wanted to rejoice, giving praise to God for his mighty creation.

We then made our way towards Breckenridge, making a chance to the route, so we could use the 11,500 foot Hoosier Pass as a test before Mt. Evans tomorrow. It was a great ride with Jared once again leading the way up the mountain. After stopping for pictures, we descended the pass and made our way into Breckenridge, ending the day’s ride. We then got into the van and made our way to Evergreen.

Ugg!!!! This hotel’s internet connection is not letting me upload our pictures up to flickr.com. So, I am afraid we will not be able to post them until we get to the next hotel in Colorado Springs tomorrow. Sorry about that, but check back for more of Justy & Jordan’s pictures.

Tomorrow is one of the stages we’ve been looking to and fearing the most—Mt. Evans, the highest paved road in the world. Can’t wait to share with you how it went!!!