The Grand Canyon of God

One of my favorite childhood memories is sitting on the front porch looking at pictures in my View-Master. I had quite a collection of scenic reels, and one of the reels I enjoyed most was of the Grand Canyon. I used to spend whole afternoons looking at those three-dimensional pictures. And I would imagine what it would be like to go to the Grand Canyon and see it all for myself.

Forty years after thinking about it as a child, I did just that. My family and I spent my forty-eighth birthday at the Grand Canyon.

It was an even greater experience than I imagined. No words can describe the feeling one gets standing on the edge of that giant abyss. The canyon extends for over two hundred and fifty miles through the Arizona desert, is nearly ten miles from rim to rim, and is about one mile deep. The mixture of subtle hues is clearly seen in the various levels of exposed rock. Small tress cling for their very lives on the edge of the precipice. Squirrels and birds scratch out a living in the dusty crevices of the rock walls.

And down at the very bottom, so distant it looks like a quiet stream, is the mighty Colorado River. From the rim of the canyon it is difficult to imagine that the river is deep, swift, full of rapids, dangerous. No one knows just how many human lives have been lost in its wild rapids.

Evolutionists have stood on the brink of the canyon and surmised that the river has spent nine million years carving out the canyon. But as I stood on the edge of the chasm and looked down into its depth, I was not impressed with what a river and erosion can do to rock. I did not see a canyon cut by nine million years of erosion.

I saw a creation of God.