Green Mountain Time

I love those places in life where you can go and time just seems to stand still. Green Mountain is that place for me. (and yes, this picture is exactly where I was sitting today) :-) Maybe it’s a little glimpse of what eternity will be like… and that’s comforting to me, because usually when I think about eternity, it scares me. Too big of a concept to grasp. But sitting and gazing out over the lake up on the mountain today and feeling like I could just sit there forever gives me a little bit of peace about all of that.

Speaking of looking out over the lake, I sat and watched as one lone duck made its way slowly swimming against the light current that seemed to be rippling through the water. It struck me as odd, this duck swimming by itself. Not a sight I usually see. It seems to me that there are usually lots of ducks together. Not today. So I watched the duck as it swam, steadily making it’s way across my view. It didn’t seem to be working real hard or striving too much, even though it was clearly ‘swimming upstream.’ Every now and then it would dip its beak in the water and drink a little and keep on going. I thought at one point that it would be a lot faster and easier for the duck to make it where it was going if it would just flap its wings and get on over to the other side. But it didn’t seem to be in that much of a hurry. Then I thought about myself and what God was trying to show me in that moment. I see myself in this duck all alone, swimming upstream. But the resemblance stops about there. Instead of swimming serenely and purposefully upstream, I find myself fighting and striving. Wishing that I had more than just these duck feet to keep paddling with. Wanting to flap my wings and fly to the other side. But then I realized that if I did that, I’d be missing what I need along the way. To see the glory of God in the scenery passing by. To stop and take a drink along the way from God’s goodness and mercy, so that I can keep on going. Learning to trust that even though it may take a little longer and a little more effort, that to shortcut things to the end only means you usually find yourself swimming upstream at some point again.

As my duck swam out of view, I noticed some commotion in the water near me. It took a couple of minutes to figure out what was going on, but then I saw a school of catfish. Or at least I’m going to call them catfish. Since I know nothing about fish, I may be wrong. :-)Anyways, I watched as the catfish came into view. There were probably about 6 or 7 of them swimming gracefully and peacefully alongside one another. But it wasn’t long before I figured out why I had heard commotion earlier. One of the catfish flinched, or maybe it bumped into the fish next to it, and suddenly they all went flipping and flapping about, swimming in all directions. I tried to find them again, but in all the craziness, they totally muddied the waters around them and then they were gone. And I thought how much we can be like those catfish, especially in friendships. Here we are, peacefully swimming in harmony with life and each other until someone ‘flinches.’ A mistake is made, feelings are hurt, lies are told, feelings are stuffed, trust is broken, hearts are broken, tears are shed – and the waters around everyone involved become so murky. And it’s hard to find ourselves again.

So I left the mountain. In our world, time does at some point become a factor again and you have to go. I dried off my wet and muddy dog (no lessons from her today, except that if I could be as content and happy as she is, life would be great all the time - ha) and started down the mountain. As I began the winding and steep descent, a grasshopper suddenly dropped onto the middle of my windshield, right in my line of sight. Imagine its surprise to suddenly find itself hurtling downhill at speeds it never dreamed of traveling! To say that it was holding on for dear life would be an understatement. But there was nowhere for it to go, so it held on. We made it to the bottom of the mountain and leveled out and I noticed with the change of pace, that it began to tentatively try to crawl across the windshield. But then I began to speed up again, and it dug in again and held on. The longer it stayed on, the more I wondered how long it COULD stay on – and I began to really want this grasshopper to make it all the way home with me. So we drove along and it stayed. I have to admit that at some point along the way, I thought about turning on the windshield wipers to knock it off – it was a little distracting to have it right in my line of sight. But that just seemed too cruel… So we drove. Most of the way, it was pretty well plastered on its side to my windshield with its little legs splayed out and stuck on. But there was a point where I turned a corner and it turned around to me, face to face, as if to say, “Oh, PLEASE, stop this thing and just LET ME OFF!” But I was getting so close to home – we were going to make it. Just after that, we hit a straight stretch of 4-lane rode and my speed headed up to 45MPH. That little grasshopper turned itself around (butt facing me now!) with its head up and into the wind (like a hood ornament – ha) and just defiantly rode as long as it could. But I could see the speed getting to him and I slowed down, because I really, really wanted him to make it home. As I pulled into my driveway and into the garage, I parked and he was still there. I sat in the car and just watched him for a minute as he seemed to ‘decompress’ from the wild ride. He didn’t move. I think he was in shock. So I went inside and got a cup and gently ‘captured’ him and set him free in the front yard. A much happier place for a grasshopper to be. :-) Oh, how life feels like this at times!! How did I get on this wild ride careening out of control downhill? I’m just hanging on for dear life. And even when the road begins to straighten out underneath me, sometimes the speed of life can be dizzying. Please, Lord – stop the world, I want to get off! But no, it doesn’t work like that. OK, so I’ll stick my face into the wind and I’ll pull myself up by the bootstraps and I’ll make it through, just watch me! Oops, things just got too fast for me again…. But there’s God, watching me through the windshield, willing me to get home, knowing when it’s time to slow things down, so I can find Him. I’m in shock… too tired and too exhausted to stand on my own, or get where I need to be. I’m so thankful that it’s in those times He will carry me to a better place.