We just returned from a week at the ocean, our “reward” trip for living, somewhat successfully, with one bathroom and no natural lighting. Our apartment in San Diego had two bathrooms and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the beach, enabling us to watch the surfers by day and the moonlit waves by night. But it was the time in between that was most interesting to me. The sunsets were amazing.
The sun sets every day, even in Colorado. I realize this, but I never notice it. Day just somehow turns into night while I’m shuttling kids, making dinner, or checking someone’s math homework. I can’t think of the last sunset I witnessed at home. But at the beach, sunset is an event not to be missed. It’s like the world stops for a few minutes—surfers stop surfing, runners stop running, people stop talking, children stop fighting—while the sun drops off into the ocean. (I don’t care about all the science that tells us that’s not at all what’s happening; anyone who’s watching it would describe it as the sun falling into the ocean.) It’s captivating. Mesmerizing. You can’t not watch, even as your eyes are stinging and your good common sense is reminding you that it’s never a good idea to look directly at the sun. Everyone watches. Everyone marvels.
To me, the response to the sunset was as interesting as the sunset itself. How often does everyone stop what they’re doing and pay attention to the same thing? Only tragedies and catastrophes come to mind. But how often are we universally held captive to something so glorious?
It’s another glimpse of heaven on earth.
One day we’ll stand in the presence of God—terrified to look, unable to look away. There will be no thoughts of e-mails to send, calls to return, dinner to make. Undistracted, in unison, we will stand captivated by the glory of God. I can’t wait until that day when His name, His glory, are not taken so casually but are something at which we all marvel in stunned silence. Nothing can prepare us for what that will be like, but sunset at the beach comes as close as anything else.
