Strength On the Horizon

 The summit of Monadnock emerges over the horizon in Nelson. 

Adventures to desired destinations, like a favorite get-away spot or in the arms of a loved one who lives far away, can be heart-pumping and filled with anticipation and wonder. And then there are those days and even seasons of adventures to desired destinations of another kind—a personal goal yet to be conquered, a vision or dream yet to be fulfilled, a not-yet answer to an oft-uttered if not desperate prayer—that can seem like nothing in front of you but miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles.

"When are we going be there?" Even the best and strongest and most youthfully fit, as Isaiah writes, can grow weary from the journey.

On many days in that kind of not-yet-there adventure, inner resolve kicks in: "I've come too far; there is no turning back now." But that kind of fuel only goes so far. Then what? Like ancient Israel, the response can seem silly at first but it can also prove powerfully simple: a more important resolve to take our eyeball stare out of the miles-and-miles of seemingly endless horizon and choosing instead to find strength by looking up, gazing at, or even climbing one of God's most energizing type-and-shadow creations...

“I will lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where will my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth. He will not let your feet go out from under you. He Who watches over you will not sleep.”—Psalm 121:1-3

Around these parts, it's a 24/7 open invitation. The hills and the mountains are magnetic attractions for just about everyone, perhaps because we can sense deep inside that their beauty is more than earth-skin deep. Like everything else God has created, they contain His deeply embedded fingerprint, His DNA, and He longs that all would see it, touch it, grasp it. Grasp Him. Because in a sense, the hills and mountains are displaying God's unshakeable character, reminding any and all who would look Up of His incomparable strength, faithfulness, and jaw-dropping beauty that can help the traveler on life's journey to keep going...no matter how many miles-and-miles of "not yet" are ahead.

Because whether we see it or feel it now or not, Someone greater has the perfect road map. No Siri necessary. And if there are no hills or mountains nearby, it's good to know that God still speaks to us everywhere we go through all that He has made. How often have we felt a certain God-speaking assurance about His hugeness that comes when surrounded only by huge open fields or smooth-as-glass lakes, or that unmistakable yet mysterious sense of "God's got this" majesty, power, and faithfulness when standing at the ocean's edge far removed from the gum-drop hills and 4,000-footers. His deeply embedded fingerprints are everywhere we look, if only we will.

Even so, the mountains and hills seem to speak with a different Voice. Their uniquely strengthening presence silently shout:

"Look Up. I Am faithful.

I Am not going anywhere.

I Am your God who is always there for you

And here for you,

Warm daylight or cold blackness of night;

Sunny or stormy weather

And perhaps most especially

In the fog...

Looking southeast from Mount Washington summit.

...When you can't...see...a thing.

But fear not, I can see behind you, beside you, and far ahead of you.

I Am...Solid.

I Am...Unchanging.

I Am...Immovable.

I Am...Unshakable.

I Am...Majestic.

I Am...Filled with unique facets of unspeakable beauty and delight,

No matter which angle you look up.

And when the sunset dances around just right, it's not just camera-worthy...

 Monadnock at sunset, from Old Sharon Road.

...It's declaring:

I AM the Glory, and the lifter of your head."

Blessed indeed are all who, along life's wonderful and sometimes crazy adventures, learn to "head for the hills" and remember to lift up eyes, breath, and heartbeat.

"These mountains, which have seen untold sunrises, long to thunder praise but stand reverent, silent so that man's weak praise should be given God's attention."

—Donald Miller, "Through Painted Deserts"