Christian Counseling Service -- Devotions

Alpine dining

Wednesday, December 4, 2002

Isaiah 25:6-10
6) On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine--
the best of meats and the finest of wines.
7) On this mountain he will destroy
the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
8) he will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces;
he will remove the disgrace of his people from all the earth.
The Lord has spoken.
9) In that day they will say, "Surely this is our God;
we trusted in him, and he saved us.
This is the Lord, we trusted in him;
let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation."
10) The hand of the Lord will rest on this mountain;
but Moab will be trampled under him
as straw is trampled down in the manure.

Only twice can I remember climbing to the tops of mountains. Once I was with a friend, backpacking in New Mexico near Taos. We trudged higher and higher. As we passed the treeline thunderclouds came down almost on our heads. It was barren, dark and frightening up there. I imagine being with God in that afternoon storm, but what I hear are booming, Wizard-of-Oz-like echoes of announcement or rebuke. We didn't stay up there long.

My other mountain memory is of the Cascades in the state of Washington. Margaret and I were visiting my Aunt Nenie and her husband Bob. I went for a short mid-afternoon walk that turned into an hours-long journey. DirtyFace Mountain was near their cabin, and I met a dog, and the dog and I just kept on going and going.

The dog's name was Cooper, I found out later. I remember thinking, "It can't be that much farther." Just a few more bends in the path. As we crossed the treeline together, as we came nearer and nearer the top, my legs were very heavy, but I was so excited! Cooper went ahead; he waited for me, wagged his tail.

The summit changed everything in an instant. Instead of thick ground in front, there was suddenly only sky. I found a few pictures tucked away in a scrapbook; if you can open them with your browser, you'll see what I saw: a wisp of rainbow, still surface of a distant lake, more and more mountains stretching endless out of sight. Only Cooper and me, as far as my eye could see.

It is there that I imagine God setting out his table, not in the presence of my enemies (as in Psalm 23), but for us all. How could we all fit up there, at the summit? I have no idea. That's not my problem. Instead I can just take my time to revel and rejoice, laugh and leap and dance, with you and you and you ... while we eat, while we celebrate, in the place where death no longer has dominion.

I always want to go higher, Lord; I want to find you in the clouds. Please give me patience and remind me that you, instead, will come to meet me, that I will be found ... by you.

Devotions Archive

Alpine dining

Wednesday, December 4, 2002