Mountain Speak

Yesterday my brother and I went for a little drive in these mountains that the great Northwest has to offer. Last time I was here, which was almost two years ago, we came on these same roads and I had very similar thoughts and I took very similar pictures.
But I didn't blog then.
So nobody has read what I am going to share today.
At then end of that last excursion I came home and thought, and then wrote this little ditty about those mountains. And here is what a two-year-younger brain thought about them. And here are those very similar pictures as well.

There they were. Tall and Proud. Standing there in virtually the exact same way as they have for the last 5 millennia.

Just doing what they do---Praising God.

“Curtis,” I said, “They were here for 5,000 years before anyone other than God even saw them!”

I tried to imagine those mountains without civilization crawling all over and around them. Did they look the same in their untouched form as they do now? Would I see them the same if I saw them through a vast wilderness instead of this concrete road I am driving on?

It says that all nature is waiting for Christ to be revealed again. Like pregnancy…..Just.Waiting. Does that mean that what I am seeing is just a shadow of expectation?

 And it also says that if humans don’t worship then God will grant that mountain a voice of its own. And all I can think is----what kind of song would a mountain sing? Would it be formal and trumpetal, or a haunting melody that speaks of depth and mystery? Or better yet, would it be something unearthly—introducing me to a sound my ears could never fathom?

 What does a mountain look like that’s bowing down, I wonder. Will they dissolve themselves on that Day, or continue to do as they have best done for so long?

 I can’t help but imagine that if the sky got pulled back like a curtain would I even see the mountains anymore? Would they, in fact, be observed as a molehill in comparison to the “beyond” they have been hiding in?

And maybe my knowing of a mountain song isn’t important—but instead my revelation that the mountain simply IS singing is enough to understand. For it seems to me that that mountain never asked questions about why it was THERE. It was just spoken into being and it WAS there. To do only what it was supposed to do.

“Jesus, why did you make that mountain? I mean, it serves virtually no purpose, so why does it stand there?” I queried, and you know his response?

“Because I could.”

And the end of the matter I do believe is this---God Could. So he did. And that is all that mountain has to say about the matter or really about any matter.

And that’s always enough.

Because God could. So he did.