I Find God In the Mountains

I find God elsewhere, but it just doesn't feel the same as the mountains. During the business of life it takes a lot of conscious effort to sit down with my Bible to read and pray. It's an even bigger struggle to patiently wait until I feel the peace of God's presence. For me to linger even longer for His guidance in Bible study and my life's current issues almost causes over-exertion. The to-do list on my fridge calls my name.

It's hard for me to find God's joy, until I step on a trail. It's as if I scurry around and God is just an arm's length away. He's there and we converse, but we're not really intimate. As soon as I enter the refuge of the lodge-pole pines, I feel as if God has wrapped His arms around me.

Maybe it started at summer camp. I've been a Christian for about 17 years. When I was a child, my parents sent me to the mountains for at least one week every summer for kids' camp and eventually teen camp. Even when we were stationed at a military installation overseas, I managed to go to a retreat that included climbing Mt. Fuji. Much of my spiritual growth happened at these camps.

There's just something about being removed from cell phone reception, schedules and the burdens of "real life". I was forced to concentrate on the tasks at hand; hiking, floating a river and getting to know the Creator of the wonders around me. With so many distractions removed I soaked up everything each speaker said. When they set aside time for devotions, I found a place where I couldn't hear or see people. The only sounds were that of creaking trees, scurrying squirrels and the rushing river.

Jesus often retreated to the wilderness to be alone or pray. My favorite is in John 6:15 after He fed the five thousand. The people were amazed at His miracles. The verse says, "Therefore when Jesus perceived that they were about to come and take Him by force to make Him king, He departed again to the mountain by Himself alone." One of my biggest struggles is pride. This is often manifested in a desire to be recognized. When Jesus knew it was not time for Him to be exalted, He retreated to the mountainside.

The mountains became such a haven for me that even at a young age my parents recognized and utilized it. My parents did foster care and I connected with a few of the girls in really cool ways. Unfortunately one young lady, whom I consider a sister to this day, provoked me to my tipping point and ended up with a bloody nose. To calm me down and figure out what was going on my dad immediately got me in the truck and drove to one of my favorite spring hunting spots. We hiked around and just picked wild flowers and watched bear cubs while God slowly worked on my heart.

Did Jesus receive this same assurance from the Father while in the wilderness? I don't know. He sure went there a lot. One thing I am sure of; I am truly blessed to live here.