Hiking from Woods on a Fall-ish Evening

Tonight, at the end of a VERY long week (have I blogged yet I returned to teaching professionally full-time outside the home?), I went for a needed hike.

Or, perhaps, I just started my week with an incredible hike. 

Life is totally based on perception, isn't it? Sometimes it's the little things that add up to revealing beauty, or back breaking stress. A little goes a long way.

I needed this hike. I needed to just get out and be alone a while and refill my soul-lar batteries. The 16th of September is rapidly approaching, and that day is a personal and private anniversary for me. While the period of time and the subject it marks is personal, its effects are not. It is one of those defining days in life - much like a birth is a new promise for parent and child, or a wedding day is full of promise, sealed with vows. Anniversaries are a day to reflect. They are a decision too. Do you decide to choose love and commitment for another year? Do you celebrate the life you have? Do you mourn where you are on that particular remembrance, or do you recommit to the what the anniversary marks despite how the day finds you? Life, so often, is a decision on how it is lived despite our current circumstances living it. 

As I climbed from the woods to the mountain side, the trail opened up. The path became unclear, and I had to put one foot in front of the other to push onward. I had so many directions in which to head!

But, oh the view! The journey upwards is challenging, yet when I can let myself look around, fighting gravity's temptation to fall backwards, it is so glorious!

I could not escape the beauty of the Yellow Daisies all around me. Stone Mountain's species of yellow daisy is pretty amazing. They grow on the mountain side, and only have a season of about a month. Thirty days of living out their purpose before they are gone. I saw many daisies already aging and fading, yet, they still glowed in the sun's light. They were weather worn, solar bleached, and were still radiant and graceful. It also impressed me how they bloomed where they were planted. They grew despite the granite rock their seeds landed upon. 

  

It looked lonely. Yet, there was a rustic beauty and bravery to these particular plants. They stood tall despite their surroundings, despite the rocks or deep cracks. They inspired me with a glimpse of brightness along my trek, while seemingly so alone in their micro-oasis. Yet, were they really alone? Not at all. They stood tall in the Light, reaching for the Sun, turning their faces to the nourishing rays. If you pulled back on the viewfinder in my camera lens, then you would find something more:

Community. They were a part of a community. A group who were setting their roots deep despite their own rocks, pebbles, gravel, and grit in the way. 

We all have our own story. We all have grit and granite in our lives. Everyone we meet is struggling to put down roots, to have purpose, and commit to something each moment. This world is FULL of struggle, but when you stand back and watch the communal spirit - it becomes living art to inspire us onward. 

 

So, as my quiet, personal, anniversary comes and goes, I wanted to thank "you" for being a part of my mountain side biome. We all may be weathered and bleached at times, but we live the life of Ecclesiastes 3, which means we also have a season to shine on that same mountain side. We'll be exposed to all types of anniversaries, and we get to choose how to live them. Thank you for being there, even when I mess up, overreact, or overcompensate. Forgive me if I forget you have a story too. It's no accident we are living together in THIS life, at THIS time. It is to be the hands and feet of Christ to each other.

As the sun started to set, I needed to get back down the trail. At one point, I was at a loss for where to go, since I was on the granite face with many directions to choose from. I am NO Moses, and this was not Mt. Sinai. I was not expecting a burning bush or loud event to show me the path I needed to take. Yet, why doesn't God do those big acts anymore? Where is the pillar of fire, the burning bush, the wrestling angel, the lighting strikes, cures or mass miracles? Then a thought hit me.

It is because we are too loud. We are too busy, too plugged in, too informed. So, sometimes He comes in the quiet and the small, waiting for us to hear or see Him. Then He waits for us to follow. 

Sometimes His "signs" are nothing more than a brief mark on the path. Can you find it? 

Psalm 119: 105

And, that mark leads us to more.

In the small, He leads us to safety as the night falls....

...and I feel renewed to mark the passing of another anniversay, wait on my God, and love those around me. I feel like a 2 Corinthians 12:9 gal most days, so hopefully I'm contributing to God getting mighty powerful for us all, haha. But, I know I'm called to be a Romans 12:12 warrior, and thanks to "you", I can be that most days, and know on the days I am weak - God is still strong, especially through "you." 

Ain't life grand? 

Much love, and many thanks. Goodnight!