There’s a chill in the air tonight. The clouds have been slowly creeping over the foothills all day today, all up and down the front range. I’ve been feeling a sense of the unknown, a whisper upon the wind. It makes me want to go walking on the trails across the highway. It seems to be theme for me in the past few months, walking in the mountains.
I’ve always loved mountains. Whenever I am in the mountains, I feel protected, surrounded. It feels like gigantic arms enfolding me in a rocky covering. I also love them because whenever I am deep in any mountain range, I feel surrounded by mystery and epic grandeur. I suppose it’s the idealist in me, but I think mountains represent the unspoiled, hidden secrets in the world, the places that haven’t been tainted by modern life and technology. It makes me think of Scottish fairy tales, where people wander off into the mountains and disappear into an enchanted mist, never to be seen again. It reminds me of time spent hidden away.
The mountains are my respite, my home of refuge.
In less than two weeks, I’m going to be leaving the mountains. And not just going away on a trip; I’m changing my location of residence. I’m moving again. This time, I’m going to a place where mountains are a little scarce. I’m going somewhere where I will work hard, and spend time building a foundation. School, work, friends, community, church. It will be a time of learning and of trust; and I think it will be a little unsettled for me, at least for a while. Not that I’m not used to being unsettled; it’s one of the only sure things in my life. But in a time where it is difficult to find foundations, and to know people when the world around us says, “focus on yourself. Believe in individualism”, it will be an upward trek.
I am not afraid. I’ve felt the wind changing to the east, driving me back to a city I’ve experienced before. Some people call it Nash-Vegas, and I don’t blame them. Some people just call it Nashville, and I understand why they don’t want to call it Nash-Vegas. I’m somewhere in the middle between the two, and I think I’ll experience the city as such for myself. I’m in limbo in life, and perhaps it’s not altogether inappropriate that the place I live reflect that.
Blinking away the sunrise
Listening to the wind blow
Angels with dirty faces face
Another day in limbo
Beckoning fire from Heaven
Everything seems so stone-cold
Beating the drums of change
Another day in limbo
~Mark Heard
I’m going because I’m following the music. Kind of like August Rush (I’m not afraid to say it; good movie, go see it); the music beckons to me. With other things in my life, I hear and see and feel and touch, and I am aware of my reactions; but when something gets in my soul, when I feel that ache and desire moving in a place in my heart that I can’t quantify, I know I have no choice but to respond. Music is one of those things I can’t quantify; it simply is in me. I don’t know how to describe it beyond that, without abstract meanderings.
I can feel the Spirit moving me; and I can feel the music moving me. Maybe God’s Spirit is the voice singing, and the melody is so entrancing that it inexorably draws me forward and upward, to whatever lies ahead. It’s frustrating, not knowing; but it’s also comforting that the melody urging me on is so beautiful and full of love and grace.
I can be certain that there will definitely be a lot of music involved, and a lot of musicians. That feels like a real gift from God to me. It is a grace for me to be with other musicians, other people that love the craft in which I am trying to spend my time and effort. I know that I have a lot of growth and learning ahead of me, and I am grateful for others who have gone on before me.
God knows I’m unsure about all the things I’ve asked him for in secret; all the unspoken desires in my heart for the future. More limbo. But it’s always in that limbo that God shows up; in the midst of the confusion and the noise and distraction, He’s there. Still singing in a quiet voice that always seems to rise above. And it’s that voice, that melody that I follow, somewhat blindly, but trusting that it will lead me out into something meaningful someday.
This is a disjointed post. It is a post in limbo. I hope that you can find the meaning and order in this jumbled mess, dear reader. We’ve all got mountains of limbo to climb; and we’ve all got good things waiting on the other side. Just one more step, one more step, you’re almost there…
3 Comments
August 8, 2008 at 3:20 pm
we’ll miss you. It’s a pity we never got to work together – maybe we’ll have to do some postal-service-style collaboration.
And I loved your writing about the mountains, it was a beautiful beginning to my morning.
August 9, 2008 at 5:30 pm
we’re in similar places right now, it seems.
there’s certainly some limbo at the UM, and it’ll be tough to build a foundation there.
but i’m excited all the same, and it seems like you are too. it’s exciting to know that God will certainly have His way, and to anticipate what that might bring.
August 19, 2008 at 3:10 am
This post was like a song in itself… an ode to Nature and Nature’s God. Deeply beautiful and inspired…