I shared a most enjoyable day hiking with a parishioner this past week, and our trip to the Appalachian Trail in the Shenandoah Valley was amazing! The cloud cover that day was at 2,000 feet and since we were always above that, and as high as 4,000 feet, I could only see a short distance in any direction. Even from the highest peaks we climbed, one could only see the cloud. I asked – “What would I see if we were not in the cloud cover?” and was shown pictures of what was really “out there” but not able to be seen. I look forward to returning to those very same spots on a cloudless day and being able to see the beauty it offers for myself.
Without the vision that showed me what was far off, my focus then became a vision to see what was nearby. My sight concentrated on the steps my feet were taking, and the need to “watch my step.” My eyes took in the rock formations, the abundance of plant and mineral life around me and the course of nature in shaping the landscape. While I had hoped to see “for miles,” my delight became that which was right where I was.
On the way home, I wondered if I had often made the same error in my life; trying to see so far ahead, so far “out there” that I missed what was all around me. And then, before breaking out into a very satisfied grin, I thought to myself – “There is a sermon in this, isn’t there?”
Sharing the Love of the Risen Christ,
Richard+
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