In honor of Mother’s Day, my crafty husband snuck around and arranged to sweep me away to Fort Davis for a night. What I thought was a trip to Sonic after work turned into a surprise getaway. After dropping the kids off with my wonderful in-laws, I felt like I was glowing. I couldn’t quit counting joys… 

The sneaky husband who surprised me. Gave me what I didn’t ask for but really wanted. 

For the old, old hotel, tucked away in the mountains, a mile up. For the creaky, uneven floors, an old fashioned brass key, and a noisy lobby kitty. 

For all the makeup brought, because he didn’t want me to be without something. 

For 4 outfits for me, 3 pairs of shoes, and no jacket for himself.  For the chance to warm him up for a change. 

For star gazing, leaning on each other for warmth. Enjoying the quiet in each other while listening to voices and noises all around. “Therefore a man shall  … hold fast to his wife…”  

For the smallness of me, below the vast expanse of stars. And yet, here I am. Blessed beyond expression! Living now, breathing now, healthy, employed, full belly, strong husband of integrity, beautiful kids, born of a family that has loved the Lord for generations past… Where could I have been? Who could I have been? Who am I? How great is His love.  “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His steadfast love toward those who fear Him.” 

For mountaintop experiences

Our guide pointed out a satellite that came faintly view, increased rapidly in brightness as it caught sunlight, and then disappeared. As we sat in near pitch blackness, he seemed to touch the stars with a light-saber-like laser pointer. We cranes our necks and learned about the heavens. 

It’s so late, I’m getting so sleepy, but I am still glowing.  I am blessed beyond expression. 

For giggles in the shower. Or…. the trickle, it should be called. For the grace to let it go. The choice, a trickly excuse for a shower will not break the special. 

For those rocky, columned-up mountains. They looked like lots of people standing close together. 

For such a sweet little town. It was so quiet, I couldn’t get used to it. And the people were so friendly. I am from a small town, but this friendliness went beyond small–town friendliness. Everyone was so ready to share their stories. We walked through the library and spoke to a woman whose husband had built a 3D printer out of spare parts of Ebay. We spoke to a shop owner from South Africa whose husband works at the McDonald Observatory. Her voice was beautiful, I could’ve listened to her talk all day. A man who been to 32 different schools all over the States and Canada before he reached Jr. High, and he had speech therapists scratching their heads. Shop owners stood outside and waved you in, leisurely following you after they’d wrapped up their own conversations. Some shops had signs – “if you’d like to shop, call me, I’ll be here in 10 minutes.” “Pick up a key from the shop next door and have a look around.”

For moments when I have to slow down here, away from home. Drinking life slow, like cradling and savoring a hot cup of coffee.  Remembering all that God has for me, ready and waiting, when I remember to be still. Feeling so close to God, but remembering He never moves. 

For the coming home. Coming down off that mountaintop. To all the undone at home. I’m laughing, God speaks to some people through sports metaphors. But God often talks to me through plain ol’ household chores and noisy kids. The intentionality, the choice, of putting aside all the things on the list for him. For me. The gift of me to him and him to me. The gift of us to Him. Gift-giving is a choice. Keep teaching me, Father. 

And, oh, the gifts. Being his wife. Being their mama. Being His daughter.

Happy Mother’s Day, to all the mamas, all the women, all the people living life down here on the plain ol’ flat ground. God loves us here and now and today and just like this. Mountaintop not required. 

—–

*Genesis 2:24 ESV
*Psalm 103:11 ESV

One thought on “Mountaintop”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *