We spend our whole lives
climbing mountains
If it's not one mountain, it's another
We're always climbing
And it's good
What would life look like
if we became content
with the climb
if the climb became normal
if the climb became life giving
I've always wanted to climb a mountain. I was never much of an outdoors person as a kid, but something about mountain climbers--the ones who reached the tops of Everest or Kilimanjaro--seemed so cool! To go against gravity in such a way that made your lungs weaken during ascension. To rise above the clouds--closer to heaven to ever before.
What I love about mountains
is that
I am but a speck
I disappear in the grandeur of something so much bigger
than myself
Mountains humble. Egos crumble. In bumper sticker-Christianity, people like to talk so brazenly about God moving mountains for them...for us--about God disrupting God's nature for lil ole you and me. It has it's time and place, yes, but there's something about holding ourselves--our problems, our pains, our heartaches--next to the grandeur and splendor of something so inexplicably magnificent!
Lately, I've been dreaming about mountains--about climbing--about how the climbing never ceases. And instead of being disgruntled about that reality, I thank God for stamina, knowing I shouldn't be here...be alive...after everything I've been through. I thank God for the climb. The climb means I'm still here. I thank God for patience and peace during the climb. When I daydream about mountains, I imagine reaching the top someday, only to descend into the next valley in preparation for the next climb. This is life. We can't linger at the top of one mountain forever. There are so many more to climb--so much life to live--so many possibilities to explore!
We spend our whole lives
climbing mountains
I am but a speck
on the grandeur of something
so much bigger
than me
climbing mountains
If it's not one mountain, it's another
We're always climbing
And it's good
What would life look like
if we became content
with the climb
if the climb became normal
if the climb became life giving
I've always wanted to climb a mountain. I was never much of an outdoors person as a kid, but something about mountain climbers--the ones who reached the tops of Everest or Kilimanjaro--seemed so cool! To go against gravity in such a way that made your lungs weaken during ascension. To rise above the clouds--closer to heaven to ever before.
What I love about mountains
is that
I am but a speck
I disappear in the grandeur of something so much bigger
than myself
Mountains humble. Egos crumble. In bumper sticker-Christianity, people like to talk so brazenly about God moving mountains for them...for us--about God disrupting God's nature for lil ole you and me. It has it's time and place, yes, but there's something about holding ourselves--our problems, our pains, our heartaches--next to the grandeur and splendor of something so inexplicably magnificent!
Lately, I've been dreaming about mountains--about climbing--about how the climbing never ceases. And instead of being disgruntled about that reality, I thank God for stamina, knowing I shouldn't be here...be alive...after everything I've been through. I thank God for the climb. The climb means I'm still here. I thank God for patience and peace during the climb. When I daydream about mountains, I imagine reaching the top someday, only to descend into the next valley in preparation for the next climb. This is life. We can't linger at the top of one mountain forever. There are so many more to climb--so much life to live--so many possibilities to explore!
We spend our whole lives
climbing mountains
on the grandeur of something
so much bigger
than me
 |
| Mt. Shasta, California October 2014 |
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