This year, we had just a small group of eight ladies going to the mountain. We packed ourselves and our luggage (and food, and music, and other misc things) into Jessie’s Suburban and set out. For several of the ladies, it was their first time. We couldn’t have asked for better weather, or a better time! We laughed, we cried (lots), we ate, we ate some more, we walked, we forded streams, we peeked into the window of a Yurt, we shopped, we sat, we fellowshipped with God and each other, we praised, we prayed, we sang and we loved on each other.
We learned lessons of who we are to be from cupcakes and buttons. I learned new things about the people around me. God also gave me simple lessons such as seeing a butterfly and realizing that even with broken wings, it could still fly. Another time, it was a single morning glory growing up through a crack in the rocks, persevering and opening its beauty to the light. I watched as a mom waded in a stream bed to find the perfect rock for her child. I saw the grace of God in a hug, a wiped tear, and a simple holding of a hand.
We met the Prodigal son and his father, and the woman at the feet of Jesus with an alabaster jar. We met Jesus and had our feet washed and we joined Him in the Last supper. It was a most amazing time!
This year, my father lent me a camera to take on an upcoming trip to Italy. I took the camera to the mountain to practice with it. I found my love for photography all over again. I played with different settings and began taking pictures from different perspectives. Although I have always love the scenery of the mountains, through the lens of that camera, I saw the majesty of God in a different way. Fields of flowers became single intricate blooms. A sunrise through the trees shed new light. A simple wooden bench came into focus.
I can’t wait to go back next year!