On January 6th, our first wedding anniversary, we were hiking up the steep trail on Crowder’s Mountain, I was dressed in at least four cozy layers, still a little chilly, but since we were moving I could feel my fingers and toes quite well. Dom probably had two layers and was sweating so much he wanted to take off his Burton jacket, but didn’t want to carry it.
When we reached the top of the quaint mountain, the view made me feel as though I was in an airplane about to land. The housing developments, trees, power lines, looked miniature, so minute, and sort of silly, from so high up.
As I sat there with the cold granite rock chilling my backside, gazing over the world of Gastonia, NC, I was led into a daydream of what our next anniversary will be like. This daydream didn’t contain me eating a turkey and spinach sandwich on my mom’s homemade bread, wearing my hiking boots and cute jacket, or being alone with Dom on the top of a mountain.
Instead, we were in the heat of Africa, wearing worn-out sandals, celebrating our anniversary by eating goat and having mango for dessert. We did not have much time to ourselves to celebrate, but we were with a new family who were delighted to celebrate with us. We were longing somewhat for turkey sandwiches and mom’s bread, but it was ok because were were full: full of more of His love and more of His compassion and more of His hope for the World.
But when I woke up from my daydream, and hiked back down the mountain to our warm car, the support-raising, the buying of equipment, the figuring out of visas, came into view and seemed so towering and impossible.
Yet, I know one year from now my present fears will all seem so faraway, small, and sort of silly as we gaze from the top of the mountain at what He has done.
