I stand on a bridge, dangling over a canyon with a river humming hundreds of feet below and let the rain gently tap my head and shoulders. The mist weighs heavily around me, its gray vapors seeming to radiate from the earth. It encloses me in its opaque walls, allowing me to savor my immediate surroundings but jealously concealing what lies just miles away. It is beautiful but disappointing all at once. It adds depth to the whimsical forest, mystery to the ancient trees, and eeriness to the quiet day. It makes the world feel like it is at a standstill, hushed, lethargic. I feel at peace and yet I have this longing for what’s being hidden, for what I crossed the expanse of a continent anticipating to see.
Although there is no trace of them I can imagine the mountains, so solid, so grand. Because of their size and majesty, they are my favorite thing created. When I see them, they take my breath away. They challenge me to dream bigger, to believe God for more, to seek adventure and to live more fully. They whisper in my ear “go” and make my feet itch in anticipation. It’s hard to believe that mere vapor could hide something like that.
This scenario isn’t uncommon for me, I always seem to be around mountains that are invisible. Not to say that they aren’t actually there, they are just hiding behind a veil of fog, waiting. A break in the clouds teasingly offers me a look and I’m filled with awe and excitement, then they disappear again and I’m left waiting. I’m disappointed, and yet I’m not surprised. After all, it’s the season for the mountains to get tucked into their cloudy blankets and leave everyone wondering. I’m lucky enough to have enjoyed the glimpses I have had.
Lately I have been feeling like God’s plans for me are like the mountains, tucked away just waiting to be awakened. I know they are there and I know they are grand but I’ve only seen slivers of them. They seem to peek out every so often just to keep me longingly engaged, to make sure I’m still there waiting for them. And I am. I’m waiting for them and they are waiting for me. As each promise God has given me for my future rings in my ears. As pictures of dreams-come-true and dreams-yet-to-be flash through my mind.
Even though I’m stirred with anticipation, I’m at peace and I’m delighted because I know that there’s a season change around the corner. Like the moment before an airplane’s wheels hit the runway, there is a hovering moment where you can feel the heaviness in the air and everything seems to stand still as each passenger breathes in, then as the gentle exhale comes everyone is rattled by the force of the wheels touching the asphalt. Standing there in that fog, in the stillness, waiting, you know that the moment will soon change and you will be jolted forward. You know that it could be only moments before everything around you changes and the sharp white peaks become clear through the clouds and you are finally able to stand and behold them as you begin to wonder about what lies behind the next foggy veil.