I went to the Grand Canyon several years ago with my best friend. I remember standing there breathless and in awe surrounded by miles and miles of beauty and majesty. It was symbolic to me of human lives. First there is the flat surface, what is on display and honestly looks like most desert places in Western America, nothing special. However, once you dive into the canyon, below the surface that is where the beauty lies. Wonderful colors, the bright ones of the life and freedom of the land, and the duller, muddy colors of the harshness and struggles the earth was forced to withstand. You have the walls of the canyon filled with jaggedness, drops, and high places, much like the mountains and valleys of our hearts and lives. At the bottom, the river. The small river that created such magnificent wonder. The small river that brings life to the land and surrounding inhabitants. The small river that just by being present and existing, continuing to flow and do the basic things a river does, made such and impact and changed the landscape forever. Such beauty, such hope, and yet so simple.