a moment of grace while driving in yellowstone

Recently I spent a week in Wyoming with my husband and our two grown daughters—first celebrating my nephew’s wedding, then exploring Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons together. Throughout our travels, Neil did most of the driving, but on our last day in Yellowstone, I wanted to take the wheel myself and drive us out of the park.

As we wound through Hayden Valley, past Yellowstone Lake, and toward the South Entrance and the Grand Tetons, I was overwhelmed by a sense of wonder. Though we had already witnessed so much breathtaking beauty—towering geysers, cascading waterfalls, majestic canyons, herds of buffalo and other awe-inspiring wildlife—something about that final drive stirred my soul profoundly. The sky seemed impossibly blue, its hue intensified by billowy white clouds. The pine trees seemed to stand taller and greener, like prayers rising heavenward. Meadows and mountains stretched before us like timeless testimonies to enduring splendor.

In the midst of that beauty, I became acutely aware of the gift of sharing these moments with my beloved husband and daughters. It felt as though time folded in on itself, like petals closing gently around the bloom of memory. I knew this moment was pure grace. Who can say whether we’ll have another chance to travel, just the four of us, in such a stunning place?

I soaked it all in like a sponge. Gratitude welled up and spilled over, a fountain of silent praise from the depths of my heart. Tears blurred my vision as the beauty cracked me open to the mystery of it all—God’s glory revealed in creation, a divine love letter written in sky and stone, in pine and prairie, and in the precious faces beside me.

Thank you, God, for the eyes to see it and the heart to savor it.

Lord, this summer and all our days, may we see and savor your glory all around us—even on ordinary days in ordinary places.