Mountains

"We need that mountain. I need that mountain to understand God better."

I overheard that sentence recently while I was in Oregon visiting family. Narrow, winding roads led us to a beautiful cabin in eastern Washington where we all gathered for the weekend. Tall, consuming windows in the living room made space for the view of Mt. Adams. I was sitting on one of the couches that faced the mountain when I overheard that sentence. The sky was an uncharacteristic shade of blue and there were no clouds. The mountain looked epic.

Without hearing the second half of that conversation, I could agree. That mountain helped me understand God better that day too. That day, nothing seemed more real, more outstanding or more majestic to me than the crisp, clear view of Mt. Adams. But other days, the clouds roll in and you can't see the mountain as well, or sometimes, at all. I can't remember quite where it stands or quite what it looks like. I know it's there, but it's easy to down play it. But on a clear day, it takes my breath away. The analogy here is obvious. Sometimes God's presence in my life is so abundantly clear that it takes my breath away. Other days, I can't see it as well. Regardless, it's always there.