Éclatant: October 2013

Yesterday, I didn't have a camera with me, and I am glad. I am glad because a photograph could not even partially reproduce such beauty, and I am sure my attempts to describe it will fail just as dismally. It was a sunny day, the first we've had in a long while, and a friend invited me to go on a little hike. We were adequately prepared with tennis shoes, tank tops, and water bottles, sure we would be back before dinner. We began the leisurely walk toward the mountain - seven of us total. The first hint I had of something more than a little hike was when we reached the Crack in the mountain. It wasn't very large and I would never have found it on my own. We climbed up into the rift, then through it to the other side, and I could feel the distinct beginnings of adventure. The next excitement was the ladder, if you can call it that. Personally, I found it superior to an ordinary ladder; a vertical cable down the middle and bolts for steps on either side. While waiting for the others I found a lovely perch on the tip of the cliff and thought I was quite high up with a wonderful view. Which I was, but it was nothing compared to later on. (You have no reason to worry that you were not here, mother, for your very words were verbalized by others. Things like, "You should probably be careful" and "Please don't die" were uttered often enough I can assure you.) Now, that point was the farthest any of the group had been, so we continued from there with slightly less of an idea where we were going. That did not matter of course, for the important thing was to go further up, and further in.

The hike up had been interesting enough that some were disinclined to go back down the same way. Had they known what was ahead, I am sure they would have thought differently. Our plan was to keep going until we found a different way down, but this plan was halted when we came to what I'd like to call the Brink. It was the brink of the mountain and of courage, for the only way to continue on the path looked fairly impossible. It was basically a flat cliff that looked preposterous for a mountain goat to cross, if it hadn't been for the convenient cable running along the side. Naturally, I thought it wonderful and began at once. Holding on to the cable and finding little footholds in the wall, it really wasn't difficult at all. Once I was across and looked back however, I realized that the others did not seem to share my sentiments. One guy came after me and together we convinced them (although it took quite a while) that it wasn't so bad. More hiking, cables, caves, talking, slipping, breathing, laughing, and then we came to a moment of intense decision. We had one hour left to get back in time for dinner. Some thought we could make it if we headed back down right away, some said they had food and that the cafeteria wasn't that good anyways, and some had the crazy idea that we should try to go all the way to the top of the mountain. Luckily, we decided on the crazy idea.

Not only did we make it to the top, we made it to the top just in time for sunset, and this is where words fail me. I now understand 1 Corinthians 2:9 a little better when it says "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him", because my mind cannot fathom anything more beautiful than what I experienced. But what I saw, as incredible as it was, is still just a part of this sin filled world, and cannot compare to what is to come. Now, more so than ever, I am longing for His return, because on top of that mountain, I believe God gave me a minute, minuscule taste of heaven. As the sun continued it's stately descent, the clouds lit up with golden hues and the brightest blues. The mountains were ablaze with color spreading in every direction and there was even a bit of a rainbow hanging delicately in the sky. I went as far as I possibly could to the edge of the cliff and sat, praising God and trying my best to soak the beauty into my heart and memory. As I watched, off to right of the sun, a small patch of cloud began to glow. It grew brighter and brighter, rivaling the sun in brilliance, and looked for all the world like the sky itself was being torn open. I stared at in awe, for surely if it grew any larger, angels would burst forth and the sound of a trumpet would fill the air! But then, although I cannot remember how exactly, it was gone. But the earth stirred in all its peaceful beauty; restless excitement and hushed reverence at the same time. You know the sound of a theatre just before the show, when the lights go down and everything becomes quieter and louder at the same time - it was like that. And if you've ever been backstage, you know that you simply cannot resist the urge to open the curtain a teensy tiny bit and peek out. I hope I am not being irreverent for imagining that Jesus might feel the same way, just before the opening of the greatest event of all, when the curtain between heaven and earth is opened, and something beyond words and beyond imagination begins