Visible or Invisible?

I am reminded of two opposing
photos that captured my attention a few months ago. Both were color photographs of sea life in
the depths of the ocean where only experts dare venture. One was of a very bright orange fish with
bold bulging eyes amidst some colorful plant life. The other one appeared to be merely a shot of
the variegated yet somewhat monotoned seaweed.
Upon instruction to look more closely, I discovered the form of a sea
horse in amongst the plants. How
incredible for it to be so well disguised, yet very much alive and distinctly
present. Almost immediately, even though
in the presence of others, I felt the overwhelming urge to cry. Two thoughts sparked intense feelings connected with the hidden person
of my soul. First of all, I realized
that if God took the time and effort to create such an exotic specimen as the
orange fish, which may never again be seen by another human eye or even survive the
next day, just because He could, and just because He knows it is there and
brings Him glory by its very existence, how much more significance and purpose
do I have? I am humbled by the
thought. God is glorified best when we
are who we are and not because of anything else.
And I am who I am because of whom He made me to be and all He makes is
good. Secondly, the comparison can be
seen in my issue of “innies” (introverts) and “outies” (extroverts).
When I view the two photos side by side, how can I possibly determine
which creature has more value? Yes, one
is immediately more eye-catching, but does that mean it is more valuable or
even more likeable?

From a Rocky Mountain High

Growing up at the foot of the Rocky Mountains during the turbulent late 1960s and early 1970s, I had more than my share of exposure to every kind of "high". Living next to the "Mile High City" of Denver was one physical high, hiking to the top of 12,000 ft high mountains was definitely another 'high'. Home was in Boulder, the hippie capital of the world, which provided opportunity for the prevalent psychedelic 'high'. The "Rocky Mountain High" sung by John Denver in 1972 described a peaceful kind of 'high' that was elusive to me. One thing was for sure, I was anything but high on hope. My life lacked meaning, purpose, and passion. Oddly enough, I was determined to be an excellent student, and possibly be the only teenager in the county to refuse to drink, try drugs, or be sexually active. I took great pride in being a "goody-two-shoes". But not because I was such a great religious person. In fact the opposite was true. I was clueless about God and all religion. My high moral standards were due mostly to my highly moral parents, and because I was afraid to do anything that would displease them. I also had a few wonderful girlfriends. Fear ruled my life for over forty years, so I'm just now grasping my true identity, allowing myself to dream, and live in real hope. It's been a rough life-journey, but worth every step...