The Lightness of Beauty, The Heaviness of Eternity

      I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.-- Eccelsiastes 3:10-11

I'm sitting in a cabin in Lake City, Colorado.  In every direction, mountain peaks streak toward the sky, some are still covered in snow even in July.  The aroma of pine trees is wafting in the screen door, and if I listen close enough, I can hear the slight roar of a creek swelling its banks and rushing over huge boulders.  On this trip, I've seen hundred foot tall waterfalls, had a picnic with my family overlooking a 12,500 foot mountain lake that was an almost unearthly blue, and gotten up close and personal with marmots, pikas, and deer.  In three days time, I've been hailed on, rained on, and sleeted on.
 It has been the epitome of beauty.
 I've always loved the mountains, from the first time I skied one at fifteen until now as I sit soaking up our last night of vacation.  The mountains have always seemed to speak to me, in a deep way, almost a spiritual, worshipful way.  I can still remember standing atop a peak in Rocky Mountain National Park, and the breathtaking feeling of being able to see for miles upon miles.  I'd never felt closer to God.
 I've loved this trip, the time with my family, and the scenery; but this time, I feel something is missing.  The fulfillment I've felt before from taking in the beauty is far less than what I've known before.  So, in the midst of this feeling of lacking, I came across (yet again) the above passage from Ecclesiastes.  I find it so potent, so deep...so beautiful.  
 It explains something to me that has often escaped me in my life:  This world was not meant to fulfill me.  Entertain me, excite me, encourage me, challenge me, and at times take my breath away, but never should any created thing give me definition, give me true life.
 It took coming to Colorado to bring to the forefront of my mind what has been playing at the back of it.  The fact that I've been seeking fulfillment from everything under the sun, all the beauty that is having its time, and not looking at the One behind it.
 I've been pastoring my church.  I've been writing.  I've been soaking up the adoration of my family.  I've sought out art in the form of music, movies, and television.  In and of themselves, these are good things, beautiful things.  I dare say I'm not terribly unlike most others in this.  It makes sense, doesn't it?  We appreciate most that which we can see and feel.  We are human.  
 And, according to Ecclesiastes, this is the burden God has laid on us.
 Because not only does God give us these beautiful things to appreciate, He also sets something deep, something spiritual in our hearts.  It's something that calls to us, that beckons us from beyond the veil of what we can see.  Something that we are destined to not fully grasp but forever long for.
 Eternity.
 The funny thing is, we all want this, deep down, yet we know so little about eternity.  We know it's a long time.  We know God exists there.  We know He promises us that we will be with Him for eternity if we trust in Christ.  And, we know God “sets eternity in the hearts of men.”  Whatever that means.
 What I believe that means is that God put in our hearts a desire to know more, to seek the deeper things that we don't always understand, to grow bored of lesser things- even if those things are beautiful and good.  In short, I believe God set in our hearts a hunger for Him that will be teased and fed by the beauty of family, mountains, poetry, music and laughter.  The burden we carry is that we will often be mesmerized by these beautiful things, but in them we will never find satisfaction.
 These beautiful things point to God, but we make them the point.  And we miss the point.  For all the praise given to a painting, it is the painter who is deserving of the credit.  The world is the painting, God is the painter.
 As my vacation comes to a close, and I prepare to head home, I'm going to take one long, last look at the majestic peaks that surround me.  I'm going to breathe deep the aroma of pine trees.  I'm going to listen closely to the sound of rushing water.  I'm going to appreciate the laughter and joy of my wife and children.
 But then, I'm going to remember my God.  I'm going to acknowledge the longing in my heart for Him and His love that no amount of His creation can fill.  And I will return to my everyday life forever pursuing the eternity God has set in my heart.