1969.
That year feels like a touchstone in my life.
The Moon landing. The Beatles broke up. Simon and Garfunkel sang about troubled waters. Riots over school integration filled the evening news. Vietnam War protests. The draft lottery. Murdered movie stars. And more—much more.
From my 13-year-old perspective, the world seemed to be in total chaos.
“How,” I wondered, “was I supposed to find a place to fit in this world?”
The things that kept the earth from spinning out beneath my feet were the daily rhythms of home, school, and church. Weekends were filled with babysitting and church activities.
Looking back, I can see how much our church invested in its youth. Choir, weekend retreats, summer camp, and overnight trips helped me connect with both a supportive peer group and caring adult leaders.
It was in a cave in the Ozark Mountains, during one of those weekend retreats, that our pastor offered a bit of advice to help us make sense of the turmoil unfolding around us—and creeping rapidly into our own city.
Of course, I can’t tell you verbatim what he said that Sunday morning. He read a passage from C.S. Lewis about the good, the true, and the beautiful.
His point—which I haven’t always remembered, yet have never forgotten—was that when times are dark, chaotic, and nothing seems to make sense, you can find your true north by looking for the good, the true, and the beautiful.
The message of that sunrise sermon was simple: in your darkest times, pray and look for the good, the true, and the beautiful.
We entered the cave in the cool darkness of early morning and emerged into a sky streaked with fingers of light rising over the mountains.
What a beautiful lesson. He showed us that we have the power to choose how we see the world.
At any moment, we can shift our perception toward the good, the true, and the beautiful.
Like stepping from the candlelit darkness of the cave into the sunrise, we can transform our world simply by changing our focus.
Seeing things differently begins by searching for the good, the true, and the beautiful.
You can teach it, too—and in doing so help someone find their true north.
