Most of you know I was blessed to draw a line through a big item on my bucket list last year. There we were, Sandy and I, road trippin’ with two best friends, Alan and Kelli, across the southern U.S. Target: Grand Canyon.

I could do a huge photo dump of some of our grandest shared memories, but I’ll spare you that. Instead, I’ll leave you with two or three snapshots that practically tell the whole epic story.

I’ve been told by veteran visitors of the GC that the funnest part is to go with someone who has never been before. Then just stand back as they approach the rim and watch their expression. I was the one being watched that day and I’m pretty sure I followed the first-timer script.

But that’s enough about me. Let’s talk about this guy:

I probably took over a hundred photos during those eight or so hours at the southern rim. There are better shots than this, but this one is a sermon in itself.

This dude walked out on nature’s platform and, quite eloquently, turned it into a pulpit. He was an orator facing an Audience of One; I just so happened to be in the wings, eavesdropping.

As I watched, he stood there a few moments, hands in pockets, taking it all in. He may have sighed, I don’t know (I didn’t have my long lens with me). Keeping my finger on the trigger, I spied through the camera’s viewfinder thinking it made a pretty good photo on its own.

I snapped off a couple shots.

Then, slowly, he pulled one hand out of his pocket and raised a lone finger toward the sky. His face turned upward and looked where he was pointing. Like so:

I didn’t see him again the rest of the day. But I have to tell you, his actions out there in the cold sunshine, atop the Canyon, moved me to the core. I got chills. The photo still does it to me.

It was a miracle we got to see the Grand Canyon at all. It had snowed to beat the band the day before — all day long. Visibility, zero. Wind gusts, treacherous. The roads to the canyon were impassable; it wasn’t until the very early morning hours they were reopened. This was the only day we could visit; the next day we would set out on our long return drive to Georgia.

Think of what we would’ve missed. Yes, the Grand Canyon. Of course, that. But we would’ve also missed a guy out on a ledge at the Grand Canyon experiencing God in the moment.

There was another guy at the Grand Canyon that day. He, too, was lifting a hand skyward but in his upraised hand was … a cell phone.

Dude was crazy. Far out on an outcropping of rock firing off selfies from all angles, he kept backing up, not paying attention to his six. There was a harrowing moment when I thought the Canyon might claim another life.

Guy #1 was pointing at the heavens that day, yielding worship to the Almighty Creator. Around the same time, Guy #2 was focusing on himself, playing fast and loose with gravity. There’s a sermon in there if you care to try.

Scroll back up to Guy #1 and see how small he is in the frame. He’s miniaturized by his surroundings. What is man that thou art mindful of him? indeed. Amid a selfie-obsessed generation, be Guy #1; he knows who he is and whose he is.

To that end, he permutates into an arrow, pointing away from himself, and directs his whole being heavenward. If we could see into the other realm we might witness the heavens opened and a whole host of beings ascending and descending, glorifying God and praising.

We are all starved for the glory of God, not self. No one goes to the Grand Canyon to increase self-esteem. Why do we go? Because there is greater healing for the soul in beholding splendor than there is in beholding self.

— John Piper

Here’s an idea: why not pause right now and lift a finger into the air and aim your praise at the Savior. Offer up humble thanks that he’s put you where he wants you, in frame, where you can testify to an eavesdropping world that Jesus isn’t just part of the Story, he’s the whole Point of the Story.

Selah, beloved. Oh, and here’s one final photo from that day at the canyon:

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