My Epiphany at Pisgah Gorge

A Midweek Devotional

Photo by Denis Degioanni on Unsplash

I’ve always loved the woods. Even as a boy growing up in the small town of Rockford, Alabama, I spent every spare minute exploring the seemingly endless forest behind my house. Every Saturday, the sun would barely peek above the horizon as I passed through the tree line standing like a fence in our backyard. Many hours later, when the shadows grew long and supper drew near, I’d hear my name faintly echoing through the trees, shouted by my mother from our back porch. There was never enough time to enjoy all the wonders I discovered.

Eventually, when I was nineteen or so, our family moved to what was the big city for us, Scottsboro, Alabama. Situated in the top eastern corner of the state, not too far from the Georgia line, it was known as “where the mountains meet the lakes.” Now I had new territory and different terrain to hike. How escapes me, but I got wind of a scenic park less than an hour away called Pisgah Gorge Falls. One day, I set out to find it, which I did after many wrong turns and stopping at a mom-and-pop gas station for directions. Words can scarcely describe the beauty I found in this secluded, little-known place.

I would return there often, descending down the gorge where huge boulders rest on the banks of a sizeable creek. Waiting some distance farther is a postcard-worthy, thirty-foot waterfall emptying into a circular pool. Keep going, and there is a trail—I discovered by accident—leading up and out of the gorge onto a rocky overhang where the view opens to a sprawling blanket of trees extending mile after mile. There, I’d take off my backpack and soak it all in.

On one particular excursion to the Gorge, I lost track of time. Daylight waned as I took the overlook trail, the quickest way back to my car. It was dark by the time I reached the familiar perch. I sat down for a rest and looked up. At that moment, I experienced what could only be described as an epiphany. My eyes beheld the night sky unobstructed by buildings or dimmed by the brightness of city lights. I had seen stars, but not like this. It was as if a bucket of glitter were cast onto black velvet. The myriad shimmering orbs spoke to me, awakening deep pangs of awe and worship. I instinctively knew this was the handiwork of God.

Three thousand years ago, a shepherd boy tending his sheep gazed at the stars shining down on the hills surrounding Bethlehem. He was moved to write,

The heavens keep telling 

the wonders of God, 

and the skies declare 

what he has done. 

Each day informs 

the following day; 

each night announces 

to the next. Psalm 19:1–2 (CEV)

What happened to David happened to me, and I’ve never forgotten it. The heavens whispered, as they have since the dawn of time, the wonders of a loving Creator. We are not here by accident. There is purpose and meaning in life. This is not all there is! 

I’m not sure what’s going on in your life or where you are on your faith journey, but know that God is real, and he cares. This is declared with every sunrise, every sunset, every moon’s waxing, every star’s twinkling. The same God who set these things in the heavens wants you to know him, walk with him, and reign with him one day when he sets up his kingdom on a newly made earth. If you have any doubts about that, after everyone’s gone to bed tonight, sneak out and look up.