Mountain Shadows

 Sun plays tag with fluffy clouds as I climb to ever-increasing elevation. I leave the trail behind, hear human voices fade as I set off to find my own path. Find a spot of quiet where I can hear God. Where I can silently tell my heart to calm. 

I've always been drawn to the mountain heights. Perhaps it's because I've often found myself more in the valleys and have sought a way to rise above the depths and see a bigger picture. Spend time in the low places and the vision can turn too narrow. It becomes easy to forget that there is a larger view, that there is more to the picture than presently meets the eye. 

Finding a rock to rest on, my only companions are the little ground squirrels that skitter past me as I sit. Peace comes over me as I gaze out into the distance. See grand scenes stretch for miles, feel warm sun rays kiss my cheeks. This is how a soul gets back in touch with God. When the noise of all things uncertain and chaotic and fearful have robbed one of their hope, it's moments like this that help a heart return to its place of belonging. Remind it that one is never alone and that all things are held together by the One who holds you together. 

Shadows dance across the mountain pass and light hits the green slopes with a striking clarity. Up here, perched on a hillside, I behold a certain glory. High enough to cause me to look farther, I'm reminded that what I often see in the moment does not tell the whole story. I cannot judge the full landscape simply by what is directly in front of me. Try to make present experience the decipherer of purpose and you'll likely lose faith. God always sees something more than human experience can make out. 

The cool of the valley spaces can begin to cause you to wonder where the "good life" went. And it takes faith to believe that life is still good even when the pain runs deep. Even when you feel most abandoned, that is when God is most near. 

Sometimes, in moments like these, I think of how I often dreamt I'd bring my Alex here. Would show him the stunning landscapes of Alaska where he'd so desperately wanted to come. Years of hearing about the state from his friends and from me created a yearning for beauty that he always hoped he'd get to see in person one day. We talked of all the trails we'd hit, the places we'd explore. And now, those dreams can never be realized. Strange how even in the hidden miracles of God's little love-gifts found in wonder-spaces of this sort, one can still be reminded of what one has lost. Can still feel a chill like the sun diving behind a cloud. You know it will come out again and all will be warm once more - love will return and life will go forward - but even on the clearest of days a little darkness can still fall. 

How you welcome the shadows tells much about how you'll welcome all of life. How you find a way to not let your heart grow cold when the sun temporarily leaves determines how you'll grow.

It's been an unusual summer. Many of the normal activities that fill up my time during these months have been replaced by an indefinite waiting, schedule now open for other things. In the midst of all things unknown and the inconvenience of complications caused by a global pandemic, I've found refuge in the wide-open places where I could leave it all behind and breathe. Take in grace and let it soothe my anxious heart. Talk to God about the grief I carry and how much I miss the days when loss wasn't such a constant companion. Let Him know about all the dreams I wish had never died and pray for courage to let them go in favor of greater blessing I've yet to discover. 

The mountains offer me promise that God is doing more than I feel at the time. Bring me perspective that the journey with Him is always worth it, even when it appears the light has left. Shadows can only be created by light obscured, so even their presence tells one the sun will return again. God may appear to be absent, dreams and hopes may appear to be dashed, yet... there is always more. Belief clings to this truth and tells the soul to hold onto the reality, however hidden, that someday a future vista will give the bigger view and remind you that hurt never has the final word. 

I see the city below this valley and feel as though, for a minute, I'm above the problems that envelop the world and yet still carrying the problems inside of me and realize that whether the struggle is within or without, all valleys teach us to take a special strength from hemmed-in surroundings and to still see a well-trod trail winding through rugged places. Babbling brook ripples through the pass, and I cross over it, placing feet on water-splashed stones. Life is a leap of trust - God forever calling us into deeper places of faith and asking us to still believe Him even when circumstances tell us otherwise.

I've been in my own valley for a long time, but light still finds its way here. Whatever your valley, the same can likely be said for you if you'll just stop to look for it. My prayer for myself and for you is that, in our low places, we'll be given enough elevation to be reminded that our current trouble is not the end of the story. Is not the end of us. That, standing on some high place, we'll gaze out at the vast expanse and see a God who is here still, using even the worst we go through to shape us, change us, and re-order our hearts.