When I was about 15 years old I got an acoustic guitar for Christmas. Using a John Denver song book I taught myself to play some basic chords (G,C,D) and commenced my season of life as a troubadour of folk music – ala JD. This was also my song writing chapter of life, which lasted about four to five years and mostly revolved around aspirations to live in the Rocky Mountains. I figured if it was good enough for John, it would be good for me.
In fairness, it wasn’t the folk music alone that drew me west. There had been a couple of family vacations where I was exposed to the American west and the Rockies in particular. Perhaps the best such vacation occurred one year when, due to some mechanical vehicular concerns, our plans changed and we spent an entire week in Rocky Mountain National Park. I loved it! We camped, hiked, picnicked, hiked, went to campfire ranger talks, hiked and just enjoyed the beauty of that place.
A couple of years later, as I graduated high school, I pitched taking a summer job in RMNP to my parents. That idea went nowhere, but it illustrated the magnetism the mountains held for me. Years later my family would know a closer proximity to mountains as we lived for a brief time in the Pacific Northwest. One of the true blessings of that time was a view out my office window, on a clear day, that featured Mt. Rainier in the distance. Indeed the view scape of the Cascade Range, mirrored to the west by the Olympic range is hard to beat.
Several family vacations have taken us back west, and back to RMNP, including just this past week. We have a son and daughter-in-law who now make their home in Denver (maybe it’s in the genes?) and enjoy the beauty and adventure the Colorado outdoors has to offer. It’s always good to reconnect with them, and the landscapes they love, and to be able to see and hear about life in the mountain west through their experiences.
Psalm 121:1-2 says, I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and the earth.
This psalm has long been a favorite and captures my image of God as Creator. Oceans are great, and have their vast beauty, but for me it’s mountains that speak to God’s grand design. They stand as vast sentinels pointing upward, bearing witness to the One who called them forth. Time in the mountains, for me, is soul settling. It offers a reset, causing one to consider the finitude of one’s life in contrast to the magnitude of God’s grandeur.
Here’s how my 15 or 16 year old self once wrote & sang about these things: I dream of the mountains, the life that I long for; my quest for the freedom to climb to the sky. They tower above me in beauty and splendor, their greatness and stillness I see with my eye.
Yes God made the mountains and forest below them, the lakes and the streams that are part of the sights. So when I am in them, I’ll give God the glory and thanks for the wonder and majestic heights.
For the mountains are God’s work, the display of the Artist, they are part of creation reaching up to the sky. And since God made the mountains, in all of their beauty, who can picture the heavens we’ll see when we die?
danielcash 