Uncertain

Uncertain……..

     Yesterday I went to the mountains; roads climbing through the gray clouds, heavy with rains. It was wet and cold and gray. I went with family and we prayed for better weather and gradually the drops lessened, the roads cleared but the low lying gray clouds remained, along with a surprisingly cold, cutting through the fabric of my coat and leaving me shivering in the cold.

     The day, filled with memories of watching grandchildren joy in new adventures was a happy one for me. I did not join in the activities but remained an observer just enjoying the chance to join in their happiness.

     As the day continued I found a bench near an outside fire and remained there for several hours. From that vantage point I could see the expanse of mountain slopes in front of me and watch as my family rode up the mountain on the chair lifts and then catching glimpses of their exciting rides down the alpine slides. Such excitement for two small boys exploring an exciting new series of adventures.

     Also fascinating to me was to watch the fit, strong mountain bikers hitch their bikes to the chair lifts, go higher, higher and higher and then ride furiously down the ski slopes, flying into the air as they fearlessly tackled jumps. There was a time in my life I would have followed suit, certainly not as strong as they, but still filled with the wonder of trails high on the alpine slopes. Briefly I am filled with  the desire to ride the ski-lift up to the top of the mountain and breathe in the mountain vistas and cool, sweet high mountain air.

     My family however, is wearing down, after five hours of active fun and I realize them waiting the hour or so for me to ride the ski-lift up the mountain would be an added burden for them. My daughter is willing but I am not, it has been wonderful to see their day of adventures.

     I have a smaller request though, one I think the two small boys will enjoy. “Can we visit the Mountain? “ I ask tentatively. I had heard that Mt. Hood was just a few miles up the road. “We can touch the snow, “ I counter, hoping to generate some enthusiasm in the tired, tired family members.

“Snow!” the boys cry. 

     The parents tired, smile and load their small children up in their car seats, “Ok, let’s go.” They answer and start up the road towards Mt. Hood. The road winds higher and higher. No traces of snow, just thin forests springing from grey barren soils. We continue up and up and up and I watch for the first glimpse of the peak out the right side window of the jeep.

     “Mom,” my daughter gently tells me, “Look there’s the mountain.” And out the front window of the car the beautiful peak appears dressed with golden sunshine, and glistening fields of white snow. I sigh, it is so beautiful and I had so wanted to see it, to have a chance to stand on the slopes and touch the last remnants of snow greeting the late spring afternoon.

     We park and slowly hike up one of the trails to the nearest snow field. I am understandably the last up the hill. I watch as two grandchildren delight in the joy of the treat of the large patch of snow and slip, slide and snow ball themselves, their parents and me. I drink in the views and hike to a ridge where I can look down upon the Mt. Hood Lodge nestled below on a slope behind where we are. 

     My eyes watch for the patches of the alpine flowers turning their yellow, blue and violet faces to the high mountain sunshine. In the distance, other snow-capped mountain peaks touch the sky. I stay for a few moments more drinking in the mountain air, the expansive vistas, and the quiet.

     On the way home, my daughter and I sing innumerable lyrics of songs. I am amazed at how many songs she knows, “How is it,” I ask myself, “That I never realized how musical she was when she was growing up?” I guess it was part of being always so busy, trying to raise a family by myself and take care of the unending challenges of earning a living, maintaining a home and taking care of the children.

     And now, my home is empty and the future stretches ahead with a vast unknowingness about it. “What now God?” I ask. “What does the future hold for me?”

    Of this one thing I am sure, I am uncertain. I am uncertain with a certainty that surprises me; I am sure that I don’t know, what I don’t know.

    So what do I do? Well, experience has taught me, making choices  just to “do something” doesn’t always make things better. So, until I get more insight, more guidance, I will continue to do I what I can to maintain  the status quo of my life. To work, to clean, to pay the bills I am able. To hike the trails when I am able; to sit on the ocean shore when I can.

Sometimes you cannot fathom

The twists and turns of life

Somethings you hadn’t planned on

Happen-  bringing strife.

You pray and ask for guidance

And wait until you hear

A word, a sense of knowing

“This way, God’s made it clear.”

Looking for God’s purpose

And trying to find His plan

Doesn’t  come with blueprints

Or footsteps in the sand.

It’s part a mix of praying

and part a mix of faith.

It’s two parts still believing

And one part, divine grace.

His word has promised waiting

Will someday end in peace

So wait, when you’re uncertain

And tell your worry, “cease.”

     May God grant you His compassionate care and peace while you wait for solutions to the mountains in your own life. 

Somehow, sometime, He will make a way - where there is no way.

‘Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. “

Goodbye and be blessed.