Since this is my first blog post, I feel like I should do some explaining and rambling about me and my interests. Blah Blah Blah… I’ll save that for later. Why not cut right to the chase?
This thought is betwixt the bittersweet sensation of leaving one place to go to another. You know that feeling where you’re split in two? The one where half of you is more than excited to move to a new place (or even go back to a familiar place), start a new part of your life, try some thing you’ve never done before, while the other part is pulling you in the opposite direction and telling you to stay put? It’s awkward. (Sometimes I feel like that word is so hackneyed and misused, but it seems appropriate right now.)
Going to school in the mountains is one of the biggest blessings. It’s almost unfair the views that are right around the corner from where I must sit in a stuffy classroom and absorb information that will supposedly turn me into a successful, working citizen. However, with mountains comes a vastness, a certain severity that is hard to explain unless you’re inside it. It’s an overwhelming “huge-ness” that elicits both excitement and fear simultaneously. And as a bonus feature, this vastness throws in wonder and frustration.
It’s almost like when a seed is dropped (planted) in a pot of dirt. The severity of the dirt is overwhelming and incomprehensible for the seed (pretending it were personified), yet once the seed has settled into the soil it becomes filled with life. The mountains have that same effect.
So what am I trying to say?
The severity of the mountains is:
Terrifying- there’s so much to explore
Exciting- there’s beauty to be discovered
Welcoming- there’s a life to be lived and a new home to be shared amid the hills.
The vastness is calling my name. Calling me for another school year. Calling me to another set of adventures.
The bittersweetness surfaces with the fact that in the mountains I must grow up, but in the suburbs (home), Neverland is still within reach.
And so, I digress. I’m forced to come face to face with choosing to trust in where I feel I’m being called. I must dwell in the uncomfortableness of stepping farther into the “wild, wild world of ‘grown-ups…'”
[Lord, I thank You for the beauty You have created in the mountains, and the vastness I cannot comprehend there. Teach me how to live in the severity and appreciate the joy of growing older.]