He must become greater; I must become less.

Not long ago two friends and I traveled into West Modesto with a newly purchased camera and a particular interest sunsets. Eager to find the perfect setting, we drove somewhat aimlessly on the larger country roads before happening upon two stables- overgrown with weeds, disintegrating with age. Without much hesitation, we claimed the uncultivated plot for the evening and began to explore- documenting our journey with Dani's new toy- and being eaten alive by fiery red ants along the way.

It was captivating how much beauty could be held within the soggy wood planks of buildings that had seen much better days. There was yet sturdy life in the rusting, corrugated steel that roofed those boards. And as the sun-dried hills drank the light of the day, color spilled like wine across the forgotten walls of the stables; and it was as if 'admiration' had always been their purpose.

After the sun sank, and the response-time of the camera lagged in the darkness, our adventuresome hearts took over and we wandered from the stables. Not far out into the field was a well, and as my friends climbed up on it I couldn't help but stand back- in awe of their stark and brilliant black silhouettes against the expansive, radiant sky. I quickly fumbled with buttons and settings to capture this magnificent scene. Soon the three of us were conducting an extensive photo shoot where each captured snapshot was greeted with a gasp or sigh. It was almost too much to behold.

Up on the well, I could hardly help but drink in my existence. Rising above my accustomed perspective, I let my senses absorb their life. The smell of the farms- fertilizer, dirt, earth. The taste of the warm and weightless summertime air. The sight of the sunset and all it poured its light on. The grittiness of the concrete beneath my bare feet. The silence of the country.

During a moment when I was on the ground and my friends atop the structure, I looked up and there I saw it all: two people, dwarfed and darkened by a giant and magnificent sky, dancing, playing, being within this majestic creation. The royal blue and orange that pulsed throughout the atmosphere spoke of something greater than mankind- and my Creator did not go un-praised.

There before me was a picture of the living God, and an image so utterly tangible and true to the work He is doing in my heart.

John 3:30 says, regarding Jesus, "He must become greater; I must become less."

And there we were, these small yet intimate creations, 3 in 6.7 billion, not consumed by night but rather overcome and illuminated by a backdrop of brilliance, by an entity immeasurable, by the joy of Christ, by the living God. And so much greater is He than we! There, in that evening glimpse, He was greater, and we were less, and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever beheld.

"The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice. That joys is mine, and it is now complete. He must become greater, I must become less." John 3:29-30