I’ve tried up until this point to write blogs centered around stories, around timelines of events that have some moral meaning and introduce inspiring characters. This time, I briefly want to invite you into a snapshot, a moment in time, a picture. I want you to be where I am.
I am sitting in a plastic lawn chair overlooking a magnificent mountainous mirage in a spread-out agricultural village near Jiri, Nepal. I can hear wind gently and then harshly colliding and then continuing on through 50′ pine trees. The air is generally thin and cool here but it hits me in waves, like sporadically opening and closing a refrigerator. I hear the sound of people calling out to one another 1, 2 or even 3 kilometers away from neighboring mountainsides in a language unfamiliar to my realm of understanding. I wonder what they are saying…
I glace towards the sky. Blue sneaks through thick haze and milky, ever-changing clouds. Who knows if it will rain or not! No matter. We are ready. Rain covers draped over nylon and metal. We are braced for any weather. We welcome any weather. Even those of us further down the slope in hammocks look courageously to the sky as if daring God to rock them.
Our tents are perched like soldiers along an edge. They greet the danger of the drop. The steaks are planted firmly…right? We’ll find out! The rustle of the wind cascades through our little encampment, and playfully nudges the sides of our homes. A sudden whipping sound distracts me every so often due to the change of wind speed.
All else is quiet. And full of insects discussing important matters to one another over long distances. But even their sounds melt into the quiet and muted tones of the surrounding landscape.
Is this a real place in the world???
I doubt and fumble for reality for a second or two, lost in trying to reconcile past fantasies of such places with my present view. And then I glace up. The mountains of Nepal. Yes, I am HERE. I am… No really, I am! Suddenly in grips with that truth and then not after another second, I stare into the face of a sleeping giant of a mountain. Piercing the horizon, little does he know his collosal form accentuates my insignificance and helplessness. Oh, God! what is man that you are mindful of him or the son of man that you care for him?
From where I sit near our tents, the sun has erased the face of the mountain so that he hides in shadows. He leaves me perplexed…and impressed. I guess mystery and majesty impresses me. There the mountain stands…and there he and the others will stand, even after we leave.
Leave….?
…Oh cruel notion!… “No’, I tell myself, “let’s not go there. Let’s just stay right here. Right here in this moment. Just this once, don’t ruin it.” I remember Walter Mitty, and try to embrace my inner Sean O’Connell. It feels like I am fighting desperately to treasure this moment, to do it justice and let it run its course naturally.
Man, it’s hard for me to be in awe!
Jesus, teach us how to be still and know that you are God, how to be in awe of the good. Please get us out of our heads in these moments. Awaken our hearts instead. I want to truly, deeply, fully appreciate your mystery and majesty. Teach us “awe”.
“Awe…”
Awe…
*leans back in chair and sighs*
Ahh……..
