what the mountains did to me


there’s something to be said about those “mountain top” experiences…

i wasn’t looking for any epiphanies or spiritual revelations, but there is truly something about going up there where the air is clear and all the noise is far behind you.  being aware that somewhere out there, people are still running about and watching the clock and clicking away…but you’re not. and you don’t have to.  it was a test against my will to not always have to be up and about; so worried that i’ll miss something or be alone for too long and hear my thoughts.

but for the first time in a long time, i had a chance to think clearly. the Spirit moved in me. it wasn’t a great profound spiritual truth i realized, but a shift in my heart. a straightening of my crooked perspective. i had nothing to do with it…as a matter of fact, all this time i’ve been in the way of it. and it was about time it happened.

i’ve been absolutely miserable for the past year and a half, thanks to my dry, sarcastic, super-cynical, over-analyzing, hardcore-realistic self.

also to consider is how completely and utterly distracted i’ve allowed myself to be.  i came up with every foreseeable excuse to not move forward. i misunderstood contentment. i lied to myself. i am ashamed with how easy it was to drop every passion and hope that i had and convince myself it was all unrealistic. it would never happen. even though it meant compromising my convictions and going against everything i had so earnestly believed in, even though i felt this terrible empty hole deep down inside myself…i still kept on.

it was any wonder i found myself collapsing in a fit of tears one night, sitting on my bathroom floor, in the dark, curled up in a corner, cowering.  depression had claimed me yet again. all the lies i was telling and believing about myself compiled into such an overwhelming and suffocating mass, that i was nearly taken…but praise be to God for the presence of a very dear friend that night. Lord, that is one of the most frightening things in the world.

and He did what He always does. He mends. come heartbreak, disappointment, frustration, pain, change…He always mends.

and so, little did i know what staying in a little cabin at the end of some long twisty path up a hill would teach me. as i sat there, listening to the rain fall on it’s metal roof; as we drove through the winding blue ridge roads; as i carefully waded through the base of a waterfall;  as i walked down a lush, mountain trail…i finally had a chance to hear the voice i had been ignoring for so long. for one reason or another, all my arguments seemed rather moot. there was nothing to hide behind or get distracted by. i couldn’t reach for it…it was all so far away.

“For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.” romans 1:20, nasb

His mountains. His sky. His creation. He’s always teaching me something through them.

and so, now returned to the valley, i’ve taken the steps forward. without question. without doubt. like i used to so easily. i don’t know what took me over the last year or so, but i think i left it back up there somewhere.


what are you waiting for?

what i’ve lost along the way

i know i’m not perfect. i know i have a long way to go. i have a lot to learn,  still a lot to experience. so i watch. i listen. i try to bite my tongue, but sometimes the words escape before i have a chance to think. lately, i’ve seen myself revert back, lose my perspective and give in to my emotions. i’ve been disappointed in myself. i’m actually surprised that there are still traces of that timid, fragile and fearful person still in me. i didn’t like how it seemed like all that i’ve striven to overcome and heal from was so easily forgotten. the memories will always remain. and they will always, always hurt. i just didn’t realize it would still be so much.

what’s funny, though, is despite noticing the obvious weakness in who i was during the early stages of my recovery, i noticed that back then, i had a lot of dreams. i believed in a lot of things. i had hope in its purest form. it was so easy to believe and accept and imagine.

and what’s happened since then? i like to think i’ve become a little more mature, realistic and practical. i’ve gotten stronger and bolder. and “content.” but i worry that i’ve sacrificed some things along the way to get here…and i want them back.

seriously, i’m too young for this.