As a college student, I spent my summers working at a summer camp deep in the heart of the Smoky Mountains. Nestled in a valley in what we affectionately called the 700-acre Woods, it was easy to believe we were hundreds of miles away from civilization. We were able to immerse ourselves in God’s creation in the most intentional way.

One evening, I was making rounds with the counselors I supervised (just checking in, making sure they and their campers had everything they needed). One of my groups was slated to do their campout at one of the more… remote campsites, far from basecamp. So, I laced up my hiking boots and filled my water bottle before making the steep trek.

After arriving at the site, the counselors let me know that they were about to take the group further up the mountain to Sunset Point to–as the name suggests–watch the sunset. They invited me to join them. It was my third summer working at camp and I had never had the chance to see a sunset from Sunset Point, so I eagerly agreed. 

After a bit of hiking and sweating, we reached the overlook. The view was stunning: the mountains and valleys of the Smokies stretched out as far as the eye could see. 

The trees shimmered with an iridescent glow as the sun hit the mountain ridges. Even the usually talkative teenagers with us fell silent in awe of the gorgeous view. 

Then, as typically happens, the colors began to change. Vibrant pinks and purples filled the sky as the sun sank closer to the horizon. 

At that point, one of the counselors turned to me and commented on the colors. He remembered learning in science class that the extra greenhouse gasses in the air (along with other chemicals as a byproduct of air pollution) react with the sun’s rays to create colors like the vibrant pink we saw that evening. 

He then said something along the lines of, “Isn’t it amazing how God takes the things we mess up and turns them into something beautiful like that? There’s a sermon in there.” I agreed.

As I reflect on that moment more than a decade later, part of me wonders if we both missed a crucial point. The influx of greenhouse gasses in the air was causing harm to the mountains where we had worked. 

Certain species of trees weren’t growing as well as they used to. The bugs that called those trees home were depleting in number, which, of course, impacted the other animals that relied on those bugs to be their food source. 

The air pollution, while creating “beautiful” sunsets, was hurting life, both in the air and on the ground.

Can something that causes so much harm be beautiful? Or have we simply been conditioned to call it beautiful?

We make Mother Earth sick, then have the audacity to call her symptoms beautiful. Can you imagine calling anyone’s symptoms of illness beautiful? 

Would you call your child’s fever beautiful? Your partner’s fatigue from chronic illness? Your friend’s extreme nausea from cancer?

Those sunset colors aren’t fixing the harm to Mother Earth. But by recategorizing the symptoms of Earth’s suffering as “beautiful,” we bypass our own culpability in her pain. We absolve ourselves of the responsibility to ease her suffering. We thank God for a “beautiful” sunset, then continue buying single-use plastic and overconsuming beef.

If we are to get serious about repairing the damage we’ve done to the Earth–which God trusted to our care in Genesis–we must be honest when we see the symptoms of her suffering. Only then can we move on to action.

What are some ways we can help the Earth heal? First, buy local when you can. 

By buying local products, you’re reducing the amount of shipping required to get what you purchase. This small step cuts down on fuel usage. 

Second, reduce the amount of single-use products you use–even if those products are “recyclable.” More and more evidence suggests that what we put in our recycle bins actually ends up in landfills regardless. By reducing the number of single-use products, we keep those containers out of production altogether.

Thirdly, contact your local and state representatives. Let them know you support legislation that improves our ability to produce green, renewable energy and reduces our reliance on fossil fuels. Such legislation would require large corporations to change their processes, reducing the pollution produced on an industrial level.

We need both personal accountability and industrial change to heal the damage done to Mother Earth. But I believe if we can commit to those changes, we’ll see Earth’s true beauty—and it will be unlike anything we could ever dream of.