Have you ever stood in front of nature and been completely in awe of the awesomeness of God? For me, I was a teenager standing on the Maid of the Mist, a little boat that launches out of the New York side of Niagara Falls and sails into the horseshoe at the bottom of the falls. Standing at the bottom of this huge waterfall, water hurdling over the edge and crashing with such force into the river below that it ricochets into a hazy mist that drenches everything.

There have been three separate times where I’ve witnessed nature and felt simultaneously so small and powerless against the greatness of God’s creation, and comforted with the fact that the same Mastermind of this same landscape thought that I was important enough to include in His design. The first was at the foot of the colossal horseshoe at the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. The second was stepping out of the airport in Cape Town to see the three mountain peaks that makeup that city’s skyline: Devil’s Peak, Table Mountain, and Lion’s Head. The third was this weekend, from the Fred W. Symmes Chapel in Camp Greenville, South Carolina.

No matter how long you’ve been a Christian– whether you’re on day one or decades from the starting line– everyone that has ever followed Jesus is unified by at least this fact: none of us have ever graduated from the point of salvation. Because no matter how long your spiritual resume is, it is unavoidable that you will struggle with your own tendency towards sin until the day you die. Maybe that’s blunt or depressing, but it’s true. There will never be a point in this life where you will be able to think, “Well, that’s it. I’ve done it. I’ve obtained a wholly righteous and upright lifestyle. I will no longer struggle with sin.”

People love routine. I’m no exception. I love the comfort of falling into a rhythm when it comes to my schedule or work. There’s something about the familiarity and confidence in knowing what is coming next and moving into it without hesitation. But I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes, having a routine for the sake of having a routine is a dangerous habit to fall into. Tradition is the same way. Sure, there is something beautiful in having a custom or a belief that’s passed down from generation to generation or person to person. But sometimes, our traditions and routines distract us from certain things that should have our full attention.

Hey, Pops, Today, I lay no petitions, no requests, and no pleas at your feet. For just a moment, I only want to sit in awe of you. Constantly, you beckon me to come close to your heart; you give me permission to intimately know you, to dive deeper into who you are. And constantly, I am distracted by the desires of my own heart. How many times have I passed up the opportunity to just be with you by filling up the time and space with my selfishness and my “needs?” How many times have I missed the opportunity to get to know more of you, because I wanted you to hear more of me?