My Social Media-less Life

It wasn’t until this past weekend, when I was in the mountains for the first time as an adult, that I realized I’m not so much shocked by the majesty of the mountains, but the quiet of them.

Sound seems to carry differently in and around the mountains, as if it swallows up the unnecessary sounds of living. It’s easy to get lost in time if you’re not actively looking at a clock.

As my bestest friend— who is from the mountains— says, it’s easy to see why people make the mountains such a part of their personality.

I also realized, upon returning to Kansas City, that not only was that my first time to the mountains as an adult, but it was also my first relaxing trip where all I had to do was show up. I was not required to drive; I was not required to pay for anything (it had all been prepaid or I had free vouchers for the coffees I got); I was not even required to make any decisions.

So the desire to go back might be a bit stronger than my desire to go to any of the other places I’ve been over the past six months, simply for that reason.

I met a wonderful lady who sells children’s books and some canvas art she drew/colored herself. I was drawn to her picture of Pikes Peak since it was where I was that weekend, but I didn’t like the verse that accompanied the picture.

It was a verse from Isaiah about the mountains being shaken or… something to that effect. It didn’t seem right. I could look out the window and the last thing I was thinking about was how shaken the mountains would be.

All I could think about was the peace it brought to simply sit outside, look at the not-so-distant mountains, and listen to nature. So I picked a verse that she had already put on another picture she drew, since that was allowed, and asked if she could simply mail me the print in a few weeks’ time.

I haven’t gotten the print yet, but I know it will remind me of the weekend I had at the base of Pikes Peak and how much peace creation brought simply by existing.

It was good to be connected to nature— and nature’s God— again.