[This is a new writing initiative. Typically I write for a purpose, but now I write just to write. Each time I post a "Pages" volume, I will literally have written the post without any planning or pre-thought. Welcome to my unfiltered brain. Rabbit trails may occur.]
2.25.17 - "Nowhere, with a View"
Two days ago I journeyed with a roommate to Hell's Canyon Wilderness, which is about 23 miles/30 minutes away from my front door. For months I have noticed the particularly jagged and unusually shaped peaks rising into the sky in the distance (they look like mountains that were just hurled as lava into the sky, and then solidified in midair instead of falling back to earth), but I have never been able to find them.
These mountains seemed to be painted onto the sky itself, rather than being a reachable location. I have spent too many hours driving down different highways and roads trying to get to these peaks, only to end up at a dead end or private property...
Until this week.
Past Lake Pleasant there is a road that drives north into the Hell's Canyon Wilderness. The average driver would turn around where the pavement ends, but this time I decided to keep going - pushing my little Kia Soul as hard as it could go onto steep dirt roads that wound unpredictably back and forth around the hills north of the lake.
The beauty of this place is in its variety. One direction there is a layered vista of mountains - each peak a bit further out of reach than the one before. In another direction is a wide open expanse of rock, shrubs, and cacti. From time to time one could see the dust kicked up from exploring locals in their 4-wheel drive vehicles. (I made sure to reassure my Kia Soul that I still loved it. Perhaps cars experience insecurity...) Directly behind us we could see the north edge of Lake Pleasant, a shimmering sheet of distant water. Considering our location in Arizona, it almost appears as a mirage - until the small metal angle of a boat is seen gliding quickly to whichever secret fishing cove the day calls for.
Breathtaking.
Yet the feeling is the same.
The view is closer, but we are still not THERE. We are not in the midst of Hell's Canyon, not at the lake, not drifting around dirt roads in a Bronco. We are still watching from a distance.
There was not time to try and find a trail, nor was there time to drive further up and in.
It kind of reminds me of the spiritual aspect of my life.
Ironically, my mind compared a place called "Hell's Canyon Wilderness" to Heaven, yet the journey and it's effect were the same.
I find myself seeking an ideal in my life of spiritual openness, of God-Centered community, of life to the fullest... yet the closer I get to it the more I realize how distant it really is. In a broken world, perfection is always out of reach.
This is why we must look up, look to heaven for our hope. I strive forward in my life, going further up and further in towards heaven... but it is all preparation for the day in which Jesus brings me all the way.
Jeremiah 29:13 says "You will seek me and find me, if you seek me with all your heart."
I find it so wonderful to have faith in a God who doesn't stay out of reach, who doesn't force me to keep searching without answers, without that VIEW... Instead, The God of the Bible is a God who gives us HIMSELF. He IS the view that we are searching for.
The longing I feel when I adventure is but a small piece of a larger truth in my soul - I was meant for so much more than just myself. I was meant to commune with God, to enjoy him, and to live epically.
What an amazing truth.
This has been Pages.
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