while we all sup sorrow with the poor
there's a song that will linger forever in our ears
oh, hard times come again no more
While we seek mirth and beauty
and music light and gay
there are frail ones fainting at the door
though their voices are silent
their pleading looks will say
oh, hard times come again no more
- Hard Times by Eastmountainsouth
As I was driving to Starbucks one beautiful, sunny morning before work, I was struck by the beauty of this place we call Santa Barbara. The road that I was on carried me East, dead into the rising sun, bathing me in the brightest yellow light imaginable. To the right, the ocean loomed, gracefully cloaked in a garment of mist, hardly visible between slender palm trees along the coastline. To the left was yet another sight to behold. The mist that covered the ocean also decided to nestle itself gently between the toes of the mountains off to my left, radiating a soft yellow and pink reflection of the glorious morning.
Several things were revealed to me that morning as I quickly swerved to get the car back on the road, remembering once again that I wasn't just an observer of nature at that point in time. First, I realized how bogged down in life I was and am. Dr. Iba shared a story with me while at Westmont( I wish I could find it online, but couldn't ) that portrayed God as an anxious lover who would intentionally and unceasingly show love to his lover even when she didn't even notice his gestures. Every morning, before his love awoke, he would paint for her a picture of astounding beautry. When she woke, groggy and hungry, she walked right past that beautiful masterpiece, not giving it a second thought or a backwards glance. That is exactly the metaphor that describes what I do to God daily. Every morning, before I wake, God has planned out and painted a gorgeous morning. Just for me. With pink and yellow hues enough to make a heart burst with joy. Yet what do I do? I sleep. Or I grumble about how I have to be up at "this ungodly hour." But oh, how Godly it truly is when you just take one second, just one second from your morning routine to look out the window and see the amazing light show, or hear birds twittering playfully in the trees. Let them drown out the noise of traffic, the little voice in your head that tells you what all you have to do today, the grogginess of your pre-coffee head. Listen, look, be still.
The next thing I realized, is how ungrateful I can be at times. Or not even that I'm ungrateful, just that I haven't taken stock of all the things that I love about life or where I live. As I was reflecting on the beauty of the morning, I started writing down some of the things I love about this place. After you read them, close your eyes and imagine... I hope you get just a taste of the pleasure that these things bring me.
The early morning sun pinkening the rolling fog that settles between the roots of the mountains.
The late afternoon sun warming the cemetery lawn.
People who throw tennis balls for their smiling dogs at the beach.
Seeing the sun set over the ocean.
Strolling on the beach ( made even better with company - you know who you are ).
Ivy that spreads its leafy fingers over the buildings in Paseo Nuevo.
Families that hike together.
Dolphins playing in the waves.
Breakfast and journalling/reading at Summerland Beach Cafe.
Palm trees lining the boardwalk on Cabrillo.
The pounding beat of the drum circle on Saturday Evening.
The roar of the creek that rushes under my apartment balcony when it rains.
The smell of orange blossoms at the top of Westmont's formal gardens on a summer evening just at sunset.
My thinking spot on Cold Springs Trail.
The tree on the cliffs overlooking Hendry's beach. 
The quiet of the monastery on Gibraltar Rd.
The many flavors of roses in bloom by the Mission. 
Lastly, that morning made me wonder why I am so quick (at times) to see beauty in nature, in objects, in experience, in physical appearance and yet I am so slow to see beauty or to value people for the simple fact that they are God's children. Isn't that much more valuable to God than our ooh's and ahh's at physical manifestations of beauty? I feel that God would rather have us value, have us see beauty in just one person than wake up every day of our lives and wonder at the majesty of the sunrise. Why can't I see the beauty in a life that has been destroyed by addictive substances? Isn't there inherent beauty just in the fact that a person is created in the image of God? Why does it matter that people are well coiffed? What is wrong with smelling of urine or having a crooked nose or a giant beard or wearing grandma's christmas sweater? Huh? WHAT? I hate that I look only at the surface of a person so often, make snap judgments and assumptions because of what I see instead of taking the time to see beauty in ashes.
I end with an excerpt from Psalm 139. While you may think this is overused (shoot, I do sometimes), it is such a good reminder of our origins, of just how much God values us. From the president to your pastor to your friendly neighborhood drug dealer.
"For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them - they are more than the sand; I come to the end - I am still with you"
God knows each of us through and through. He formed us, intricately wove us together. He formed YOU, intricately wove YOU together! YOU are still with HIM!
