I was drawing closer. I could feel it. The plane bounced and jostled with the wind. I sat next to my husband, reached for my headphones and turned on worship and turned my thoughts to Him who was waiting for me.
Weary. I’ve been so tired. Striving, reaching, scheduling, trying: That’s been my life lately.
I was recently talking to my brother about the limitations of wilderness in South Carolina. Certainly there is a great deal of wilderness there, but you’re restricted with the lowlands and all the creeping creatures waiting in the water.
In the north, my wandering meets wonder and my imagination is only limited to my ability to walk and the air in my chest.
I crave that wonder, but more so, I crave the mystery of the mountains.
Lately I’ve been studying the Theology of Mountains, the place where God meets man, its becoming clearer why He always seems to have things He wants to say to me here.
Wilderness is dependency on God, kissed with adventure and returning to a place of my belonging.
I don’t know what awaits me there. But I’m eager. To look up, have mountains tower over me and to enter into worship and realign my perspective. The mountains give me scale and perspective of who my God is.
Wait for me there Lord. I’m coming home.