Hidden Majesty

 Mountains turn a rosy-pink as evening begins to fall on this crisp, chilly earth. It's known as the coldest time here in Alaska, and I'm watching with awe as beauty is touching all this frozen. Even here, in all this hardness, there is still Grace. 

Crystals begin to form as breath settles on my neck-scarf and I feel the cold running deep. It threatens to chill my very bones as a friend and I determine to get in our exercise, to take in a moment of holy amid all of winter's fury. And somehow, it seems symbolic in a way...

Carrying on - living - even in the soul's winter is always a choice. It's the faint ones who quit and decide it's not worth holding out for Spring. Who choose fear and lock themselves inside when there's still a wild, wonderful world to behold even as ice holds firm-grip on soil and heart alike.

Fog-bank plays peek-a-boo with the sunshine as this cloud-heavy engulfs everything in sight. Clear skies reigned when I left the house and then I saw the "pea soup" hanging over the river and drove my way into the concealed. It masks everything, and friend comments how there is majestic on the other side of this hidden...but nobody would ever know it. Not now. 

And it feels like that is, for me, what it all comes down to: trusting that majestic is still existent though withheld from view. Trusting that love, light, hope all remain even when the eyes cannot see or the soul cannot feel. 

Boots crunch on snow trails and, just when I think we will never catch a view, fog breaks ever so slightly and holy comes into sight... 

The majestic that lay only in the mind's memory - the surety that existed only in faith - now shows it's hidden face, and we are awe-struck. My heart begins to utter, with Kind David...

"Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the skies. Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, Your justice like the great deep... For with You is the fountain of life; in Your light we see light..." (Psalm 36:5-6, 9). 

"I will praise You, O Lord, among the nations; I will sing of You among the peoples. For great is Your love, reaching to the heavens; Your faithfulness reaches to the skies" (Psalm 57:9-10). 

Suddenly, the whole sky is turning pink, and we notice that it's almost like being wrapped in a 360 glory. Of feeling this wonder-display put on a show just for us. Because He loves. Because He is love. And that love is higher than these heights and deeper than all these depths. 

I lone ice-fisher has set up camp on the lake, lost in his thoughts and taking in this beauty in his own way. A few other brave souls walk past us and a couple dogs run freely in the snow. I stop my friend to notice hoar-frost sitting hard-cold on frozen tree branches, offering a still-lovely even in its hardened form. 

And, in the distance, the sun continues to slip toward the horizon, an imminent sign that day is waning and tomorrow will yet come. Red peaks rise in stately presence from the still-present fog and remind us that they still stand, just as God still stands. 

You cannot let the cold of winter hold you back. You cannot keep yourself from this incredible world in an effort to stay safe. Nobody ever beheld wondrous things without some risk, without a conscious choice to take the hand of God into wild and unknown places. 

Breath creates its own fog as light breeze runs right through me and I toy with whether or not to cut short this adventure and run back to the car. To get out of this chilliness and simply call it a day. But something tells me to stay. Tells me anything worth seeing usually necessitates being uncomfortable. And, just like that, the sunset starts to show it's colors... 

Gold mixes with hues of red and pink as winter-white reflects them all, and my soul leaps for joy at the witness of His creation. 

This. 

This was worth braving for. Was worth waiting for. All the good things always are. 

"Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; let Your glory be over all the earth" (Psalm 57:11).