Sweet Land of Liberty

I wasn’t sure whether to sing “My Country ‘Tis of Thee†or “For the Beauty of the Earth.†This happened numerous times as I gazed upon expansive fields, massive rocks, peaked mountains, geothermal wonders, stone carvings, and roaming wildlife. The beauty of our nation’s countryside is breathtaking. I feel compelled to share the glory of its creation and the majesty of its Creator. Our fathers’ God, to Thee, Author of liberty, to Thee we sing.

My husband and I recently returned from a National Parks Tour in five of the western United States. We were gone over a period of 12 days originating in Scottsdale, Arizona. We lingered in Arizona, Utah, and Wyoming and skirted Idaho and South Dakota. What made the trip doubly enjoyable was the fact that somebody else was doing the driving! Who knew there were almost as many sites to see en route as there were at the parks? This is my Father’s world. Each park, each site was unique with its own sense of wonder.

Parky and I arrived a day early in Scottsdale, the gathering point for our group. Scottsdale put us in a western mood as we wandered the cowpoke streets of Old Towne Scottsdale. It felt so authentic I almost expected a gun totin’ sheriff to ride up on his horse wearing chaps, boots, spurs, and a cowboy hat. The cacti on most street corners added an element of rawness.

Through the cacti and roundabouts we ventured to Sedona to see the awe-inspiring red stone formations. I imagined the years and years of wind, rain, and erosion that God had ordained to form these eye-popping artistic desert designs. I love Thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills. We could only see the formations from a distance, but they looked inviting to explore and to climb through their cracks and crevices.

Our group of 32 arrived at the North Rim of Grand Canyon National Park in the late afternoon. The geological layers displayed their creative glory as the sun slowly faded. One little squirrel approached a tour member and sat on its hind legs as if to ask for water. She dripped a few drops from her water bottle into its mouth before the squirrel scampered off in gratitude. All nature sings and round me rings the beauty of the spheres.

The canyon was as glorious as I remembered from my youth with its mile-deep canyons and mind-boggling layers. Truly, the Grand Canyon lives up to its name. Its grandeur of fissures, fractures, and lifts highlighted in muted shades gives depth to the title. We enjoyed a pizza party in the sitting area overlooking the rim. Oh, how I wanted to relish the moment in all its spiritual splendor. My heart with rapture thrills like that above.

How could anything compare to such a mystical marvel as this? I would soon discover the answer: Zion National Park. As we drove into the park’s boundaries, massive rocks, like skyscrapers lined both sides of the road. They shot up to the sky with forceful splendor as if the Lord had commanded them to “Rise.†I felt a stirring in my soul as if this creation were alive to sing, praise, and clap their hands. Let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong. I loved this sacred place and the name given it from the Paiute Indians. Many of the rock structures had sacred titles: the White Throne, the Pulpit and Altar, the Organ, Angel’s Landing. Entering this park was like entering another realm. To my delight, the location of our hotel required driving through Zion’s holy sanctuary a few more times.

One morning I took notice of a mountain’s “awakening.†As we walked to breakfast the mountain was still sleeping in the shadows; but as we returned to our room, a bright hue from the sun shown on the rocky highland. The transformation was remarkable. The morning light, the lily white declare their Maker’s praise.    

Bryce Canyon was next on the list. Hoodoos marked a mysterious, almost magical, ambience displaying their balancing act that has lasted for centuries. Again, I remembered my mother insisting that we go there while on vacation in the Grand Canyon almost fifty years ago. I recalled a sharper, brighter look to the canyon versus today although the display was still impressive. Long may our land be bright with freedom’s holy light. 

On the way to Yellowstone, we rode by the Grand Tetons. The peaked metamorphic mountains looked like painted postcards with their brisk, jutting outlines. We stopped to hike for about an hour viewing the beautiful lake and fauna. This is my Father’s world, I rest me in the thought of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; His hand the wonders wrought.

Yellowstone Park holds a plethora of wonders including hydrothermal features and waterfalls to name a few. Of course we saw Old Faithful “blow her lid†180 feet into the air. Plus we visited two spectacular waterfalls as we left the park to go see two famous stone mountain carvings: Crazy Horse and Mount Rushmore. Both were incredible leaving me with patriotic pride wrapping up our trip across this sweet land of liberty. Long may our land be bright with freedom’s holy light. Protect us by Thy might, Great God, our King.

For anyone who may be interested in reading the detailed journal I kept of our trip, please leave a comment with your email.