Last weekend I went to Narnia. O.k., it was technically this tourist trip called "Norway in a nutshell," but I didn't care. I stepped onto the train, anxiously awaiting the adventure before me where I would at last come face to face with some of the most beautiful scenery in all the world. First stop: The small town of Myrdal. This next smaller train brought us deeper and deeper into the fjords, mysteriously giving us a glimpse here and there of the beauty to come.
The train stopped in the middle of the tracks so we could all gaze on a gigantic waterfall. We all ran to the nearest door in order to get the "best" picture to bring home to our families. The pouring rain didn't seem to stop anyone.
Well, maybe a few...
The next leg of the trip was on a ferry that went through the fjords...the part where the glory of God is Unmistakable. Overwhelming. Fearful. The kind of fear that goes beyond awe. The kind of fear that makes your realize on a deeper level just how small you are, and just how big God is. A conviction that, if forgotten for even a moment, will sooner or later bring you to your knees once again.
The creeks--Tinker and Carvin's--are an active mystery, fresh every minute. Theirs is the mystery of the continuous creation and all that providence implies: the uncertainty of vision, the horror of the fixed, the dissolution of the present, the intricacy of beauty, the pressure of fecundity, the elusiveness of the free, and the flawed nature of perfection. The mountains--Tinker and Brushy, McAfee's Knob and Dead Man--are a passive mystery, the oldest of all. Theirs is the one simple mystery of creation from nothing, of matter itself, anything at all, the given. Mountains are giant, restful, absorbent. You can heave your spirit into a mountain and the mountain will keep it, folded, and not throw it back as some creeks will. The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty; I live there. But the mountains are home.-"Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" by Annie Dillard
When I was not drinking in the mountains, I watched the people--their reactions, their peaceful state, their artistic expression, and the lines in their faces that spoke of a deeper understanding of the eternal.
"Be still and know that I am God." 
Becca, it makes me so happy every time I read your blog and look at your lovely pictures, it's like a little smile pill!! School is starting for all of us tomorrow, and I know I'm going to miss you so much at our first SOB rehearsal. God bless!
ReplyDelete~Vanamali