When my wife and I stepped out of our Suburban for the first time at the entrance of Zion Park, there wasn't much to hint of the massive size of hills, nor the difference between the gouge of the floor compared to the tops of plateaus.

I took my first pictures aside the highway of the clouds building against a still sun drenched scene, while red dirt and broken rock spread for miles against the narrow strip of highway which split the valley before the Park Service sign announced the official start of one of the country's national wonders.

When I read the Bible where God tells us of his first hand view of creation, my mind is not able to comprehend the magnificence of his glory, nor the imagination of his mind, not until I had glimpsed that park, the Grand Canyon, or the stretch of the Andes Mountains.

Little boys and girls play with mounds of sand on a beach which white sands lay under neath the blue sky far beyond my ability to see the miles upon miles of beauty and ocean's lapping of the grains, hour after hour. We hear the roar, but it's a whisper of sound in the immensity of a universe created for our exploration and awe. Job was right. Who CAN understand the thunder of God's power?!

I can sit here and pen my best description of these sights, a number of those that I've encountered and wandered, but even my pictures of those places in a coffee table tome won't capture the splendor of God's hands at work. Creation tumbles about in the bottom of the Grand Canyon, while our assemblage of architecture is easily dwarfed by the magnificence of the earth. Our best efforts to model his play are easily minimized against the breathtaking wonder of God's fingernail scraping three dimensional carvings on the face of the planet.

Indeed, what we see are the "mere edges" of His ways!