Let It Be Beautiful

I have never been into cars. I judge how much I like them by their color.

My dad, however, could probably tell you about every single car, how it works, why it works, and when it was invented. Weird.

All to say, my dad owns a 1981 Trans Am and I think it’s pretty neat. And that’s saying something.

So I was lying on the couch the other day, honestly not in the best of moods, when my dad came downstairs and asked me if I wanted to go for a ride. I agreed to go. Best decision of the day.

He got the keys and backed the car out of the garage. I got in it in awe. The interior is all red and there is an awesome stereo and the seats lean back just enough to make you perfectly comfortable. I was admiring it all when I looked up to see my dad dusting the top of the car. “It is so dusty. This is so embarrassing,” he said. I laughed. Who dusts their car?

And soon enough we were off, curving through the road and mountains, talking about who knows what: engines and childhoods and how my dad can understand what a wire does. There was a break of silence and I decided to ask him a question I have been wanting his opinion on. "Dad, where do you think I should work this summer?" Oh my goodness. If I could combine all the thoughts and worry I have had trying to decide where to work these past couple years, I would have lived a lifetime of anxiety within that one question.

He began to tell me what he thought; it was quite insightful I must say. But somewhere in there, in that one little question and my dad’s thought-out answer, we got on the topic of religion.

And somewhere in there he shared with me a quote he claims has stuck with him ever since he heard it.

“Religion is like a motor. You can take it apart piece by piece, and, if lucky, put it back together. God, however, is like a rose. You can’t take Him apart without ruining His beauty.”

My dad could take apart an engine and put it back together when he was eight years old. I know he’s my dad and I’m biased and blah blah blah but I swear he can do anything. So to hear him, someone whos mind is so smart and careful and detailed, talk about how simple God is, it was a wake up call for me.

I tend to complicate things. And I just feel like life should be so much more simple. I can’t even begin to say how often the thought crosses my mind, “The sunrise is so beautiful, but I’m never awake to see it.” Or what about all the underwater life? There is so much of it but I have never even opened my eyes in an ocean. I have not seen an inch of what takes up the majority of the earth.

Sometimes I just want to stop and breathe. The most beautiful things in life are the simple things: the uncomplicated and easy things. The things that just happen, or just are. Like flowers and constellations and waterfalls and fruit trees. And I try to fit life into a list of do's and don'ts and a schedule of do this and do that when life is meant to be lived, not complicated.

And it is the same with God. I try to fit God into this fathomable picture: one that makes perfect sense. But in all reality, He is best left as He is: perfect. Someone I literally cannot understand.

And I'd say that makes a whole lot more sense anyway.

"One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple." -Jack Kerouac