It was Sunday and we were visiting the coast, driving down a highway bordered on both sides by towering trees. We pulled off onto a short access and walked about thirty steps in a narrow clearing that looked as if it had once been a road. Early morning sunlight slanted broken radiant beams of light through the branches overhead and highlighted the mist behind them. I stood transfixed by the beauty above and around me. This was something I had seen in photos, but had never witnessed. The forrest was silent except for an occasional car that swept by on the main highway, oblivious to the stunning scene in the woods.
I had not attended church this morning, but I felt as if I were standing at the alter in God's Cathedral. Towards the top of one of the tallest trees, sun glinted on two dew covered strands of a spider web. I knew that from this distance those slender tendrils would never show in my camera lens. But if I could capture those beams of light streaming from heaven, I would be happy.
One other time I had felt as if touched by heaven's hand. I was the lead coach driving across Alaska's Broad Pass just south of Cantwell late one summer afternoon. The sky was clear and blue except for one or two small clouds. Ahead of me, I watched a car moving past a narrow band of color and as I approached the same site, I watched the bands of color expand down into the ditch on the right side of the road. I was amazed that I could see the end of the rainbow so close. I slowed and allowed my eyes to follow the arc as it rose from the right side of the road, over the road and into the ditch on the left. A perfect narrow rainbow arch over the road. As I approached, it seemed to fade away to the sides. But I grabbed the radio to call the coach behind me.
"Jeff!" I exclaimed. "Please tell me I went under that rainbow arch!"
"I wish I had had a camera, Karen! It was awesome to watch the rainbow bus drive directly under a perfect rainbow!"
The motor coach I was driving was white with a slash of rainbow colors across the upper panel on the back.
I felt as if I had been touched by the hand of heaven.
Now, I stood in the woods and felt a sense of awe, touched by emotions I could find no words for. I didn't want to move. Here, only hushed voices seemed appropriate, but there was also a sense that I wanted to share this. But who would see what I saw? Who would sense what I sensed? And who would feel what I felt? It was one of those moments in life, that you can find no words to explain, take no pictures to show and find no paints to recreate. You had to stand where I stood, see what I saw to know the experience inside. I wanted to stand and absorb the beauty, the peace, the majesty and revel in the sense of awe and wonder that held me spellbound. To walk away seemed almost irreverant, as if walking out of the church before the sermon was finished.
