One's Craft

I remember planning an impromptu visit to Yosemite. It was a Sunday, and I wanted to catch a sunset, but I didn’t want to miss church. We gathered around 11 a.m., and it was important that we leave by 1 p.m. The drive to Yosemite would take about 3 1/2 hours, so in order to time it right, we needed to arrive by 5 p.m. My girlfriend, Stacey, and her sisters, Judy and MaryAnn, wanted to join as well. After eating lunch during fellowship, we headed out, praying for a safe drive.

During the drive, I saw reports of black ice on the Yosemite roadways. That was when I realized there would be some risk involved on this trip. Driving around Yosemite, you see sheer drops off the edge of the highway, and on top of that, I was still worried about making it on time. I had to stay focused on the road, but my priority was definitely the safety of my girlfriend and her family.

As we drove on, we finally entered the park, and the reports were not lying. Snow started to accumulate along the highway. The further we went into the park, the sketchier the road became. While I worried about the black ice, I also had faith in my Subaru’s all-wheel drive system. I knew it would help us get far, but I didn’t want to rely solely on its dependability. In the end, the responsibility fell on me.

After careful driving, to my surprise, we actually made it just in time. There were plenty of people around, perhaps those who had been at the park for longer or had driven in from the safer northern route. However, when we arrived, the drive seemed eerily empty. There were no other cars in sight. We found a spot to park, unaware that there was a designated area further down the road.

A new stress began to arise as we hurried to get to a good vantage point for the sunset. I looked around and saw nothing but clouds covering the park. The conditions were overcast, which I had expected before driving in, but I had gambled on the chance that the sky would clear. I put my faith in God, trusting that good things would still come from this trip. I told Stacey and her family, “Let’s head on anyway. Let’s see what happens. Why not?” The park was still beautiful, resembling a winter wonderland. Towering, snow-covered canyon spires surrounded us, like a snow globe. In the distance, we could hear chunks of snow tumbling off cliffs, creating a thunderous echo throughout the park. The air was still, and a mist was rising from the ground.

We were near the famous Merced River, trekking slowly across a snowfield. There were others around us, coming from all directions. At that moment, I realized that everyone around me was just as lost as I was. I was curious about the Firefall phenomenon, which occurs only in a brief window in February, during sunset. For about 30 minutes, sunlight beams its orange rays onto Horsetail Falls, a waterfall that only flows in winter. The sight is breathtaking, as the waterfall appears to glow, drenched in orange like lava.

We all knew the Firefall would happen, but we had to figure out where. The park was massive, and those cliffs were 3,000 feet tall. It was hard to pinpoint exactly where the phenomenon would occur, but to me, it seemed likely to be around the area where the sun appeared to be hitting the most. I also spotted a small waterfall, slowly melting over the edge, which seemed to be Horsetail Falls.

We followed the river, choosing a spot that seemed appropriate for the setting. Others gathered nearby, and soon we were surrounded by fellow enthusiasts, all setting up cameras. I had my tripod and both my lenses ready. The problem, however, remained: there was still no sunlight. The clouds lingered, but they slowly began to break apart as they moved across the mountains. Hope began to rise.

As time ticked away, I’ll admit, I was getting antsy. We were nearing sunset, and we only had about 30 minutes to witness the Firefall before it got dark. I kept repeating to myself, “Good things will still come…” I continued to pray in my head.

Then, knowing that God always answers, the sun broke through dramatically. It reflected off the falls, and the waterfall began to glow red and orange. I shouted in joy, and I knew in that moment that God was communicating with me. I couldn’t help but think, I was seeing a glimpse of Heaven. It was truly beautiful. Afterward, I heard the sound of thousands of camera shutters as everyone around me took photos, relishing every moment.

Truly, I tell you, good things will still come—just believe that He will answer.