Mountain-top experiences are glorious. After the hard work of trudging up the hill, through the mud and snow, begging your muscles to push against the unrelenting slope, focusing one foot in front of the other, hardly seeing the trees around you, waiting for the fog to part and reveal a glimpse of the mountain you long to see - finally, a resting place with a view.
My retreat last weekend was a mountain-top experience. Retreats are essential. The relentless pace of Life is too much for me to handle and I need time to receive nourishment: other people preparing food, people stepping in so I can step back, others taking my place for awhile, God speaking with the Familiar out of the way.
I shouldn't be surprised to experience a trough when I get home. I go back to work and catch up with people I left for a few days. The evening out of emotions and perspectives is natural, but still painful. The memories of the heights gasp to return, however, the intimate knowledge of the trenches makes the experiences at the heights more vivid, more lasting. And so I must return.
The work of Life is done in the valleys, not on the mountains. I am made for the lowlands where I am made to thrive, breathe easier. I cannot consciously handle being in the Presence of God all the time - yet. He is still working on me, changing me from glory to glory, refining me and molding me into a form I could never dream of being.
"Praise to the LORD, the Almighty..."
First thought: Beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteSecond thought: Thank you for the reminder that we were made for the valleys--at least for a time.
Third thought: You're amazing and a I love you.