Lake Harriet in Minneapolis is a place where I have countless memories. In the summer I’ve swam in its cool waters. In the winter I walked across it while it lie frozen and dormant. Around it I trained for my marathon, circling the lake many times. By its shores I’ve spent with many dear loved ones. Many evenings have I spent in the adjacent rose garden, marveling at the flowers and fountains. In fact, 5 years ago at Lake Harriet, I saw someone painting en plein air, and in that moment I thought: “that looks fun, maybe I should give that a try”.
To those who see only a mere large body of water, what a fool you are. Where is your life? Have you really lived at all? God puts such beauty in front of you and you push it aside like a spoiled child demanding more.
Experience does not make a man, but rather the heart and mind he brings with him. A fool can look upon even Rome only to take a picture, brag about their travel, and remain unchanged and none wiser. This is not a position of sentimentalism, like a teenager indulging every emotion that passes them by, but of rejection of the self: to wonder, you must render yourself smaller. For us to see God in the world He has given us, we must be subject to Him, not ourselves.