Today I saw Mount Rainier.
It doesn’t sound like that big of a deal because it isn’t that far away and I know that on a clear day if I go to certain places around town I can usually see it, but despite the fact that it seems like it should have become routine to me by now, catching a glimpse of that mountain has yet to stop amazing me. I love it.
Sometimes I think of it like an old friend who is very special to me. After a few weeks of dreary weather I begin to miss it, until I wake up one day to see sunshine pouring in through my window and I get excited and think through my plan for the day, trying to figure out when in the day I’ll get a chance to have a glimpse of glory. A lot of times it is on my way to work. I’ll check my rear view mirror every 10 or 15 seconds to see if this is that one spot on the interstate where it peeks out from behind the trees to be visible for only a second. Then it comes out, and for just a moment I am completely enchanted.
When I used to live with Rene in Redmond, I would have to cross Lake Washington to get to Seattle, but there is a point about midspan where I know by experience that if I just look behind me and to the left I’ll get the most amazing view of the Mountain, and so, in spite of the danger of doing this at seventy or so miles an hour, the temptation is too much to resist. When Rene was driving I would find myself staring, trying to really take it all in.
The Mountain is surprising, too.
Last semester my school was way up north in an office park in Bothell, WA. I was very accustomed to going to that building to study or go to class, and went there often. It was routine for me, and I visited the building probably three or four times a week for several months, and it wasn’t until the end of the semester, and only once, that I discovered that Mount Rainier was visible from the parking lot. Also, just the other day I was stuck in traffic on the Five and I saw her in a place that I had driven many times, but had never noticed her before.
Today when I saw the Mountain, I realized that it has, in my mind, a lot in common with God. It is huge, it is majestic, and it is always just right there, although it is oftentimes hidden. As I said earlier, seeing Rainier is a lot like seeing an old friend to me, and always deeply moving and humbling. And although I know that on certain types of days I can go to certain locations and be almost sure to see him, he still surprises me sometimes.
I’m very thankful for the privilege to live for a season in a place with such surprising beauty.
5 comments:
It's interesting that at the end of this post, you say that sometimes on the 5, you catch of a glimpse of "her". Very few people ascribe feminie qualities to mountains. Did you notice that you did this? Works nicely since you compare Ranier to God, and a masculine God at that. Good combo/contrast.
And I totally know what you're talking about with hide and seek Ranier. First week of classes this term, I was walking home and suddenly saw the mountain sitting right over my roof, where I'd never seen it. And I haven't caught it there since. I keep looking though.
I intentionally used masculine, feminine and neuter pronouns to refer to the mountain. I got tired of calling it "the mountain" and I wanted to personify it without pinning it down to a gender. I had fun writing it. Which sounds nerdy, but I can embrace the nerdiness.
I love that mountain. I have the biggest crush on it.
And mountains can be girls. How else do you think they would reproduce?
When in doubt, always embrace nerdiness...
No doubt necessary, I totally rock the nerdiness.
This is the closest to IM-ing that I've ever gotten
Post a Comment