Antique’s Roadsh*w is one of my favorite programs. Have you watched when someone brings in a vase? The appraiser looks at the vase, the shape, the size, searching for clues as to who made it. He narrows it down to a certain country, maybe even a part of a country. He examines the color and glaze and determines the company who produced it. A closer look at the decoration and he’s pretty sure he knows who the maker is. Then he turns over the vase and smiles. He’s right. The marks on the bottom tell him the manufacturer and the artist. There’s no doubt about it.

That’s how I felt about Yellowstone, Grand Teton and Devils Tower. Wisconsin is beautiful. I love it and have no desire to live anywhere else. You look at the rolling hills covered with flame-colored trees in the fall, a meadow of flowers in the summer, the boughs of a spruce covered with a foot of snow in the winter, and those clues lead to you believe that God created all of it.

Then you go to Yellowstone. You see steam hissing through cracks in the ground, geysers spewing dozens of feet in the air, bubbling mountain creeks, mountains towering two miles into the air, still covered with snow in July, crystal lakes reflecting the peaks, elk with huge racks of antlers, a mother grizzly tending to her cubs. There’s no doubt. This world didn’t happen by chance. The big bang had nothing to do with it. God’s fingerprints are all over these places. No mistake about it. He is the Maker.

The other thing I kept thinking while I was there? If earth is like this, what must heaven be like? I can’t begin to imagine what He has in store for us. What a majestic, magnificent God we serve.