The mountain

There are weeks when everything seems overwhelming. When just getting out of bed requires a huge amount of effort, like climbing a mountain.


But these are the weeks when I also wish I was actually climbing mountains. Maybe it is the desire to get away from it all. Or maybe it is more about the view and getting a new perspective on things.


This week is one of those weeks. And I have found myself thinking a lot about Elijah when he fled up the mountain (1 Kings 19). On a roller coaster of emotion, Elijah seems both hopelessly depressed and self-righteously angry at God. And missing the point.


Sometimes mountains aren't for climbing. They are for moving.




When the weight of what is
overwhelms the vision of what could be,
you will find me up the mountain.
Fearful and exhausted
here I lie curled fetal-like waiting to die.
Angry and rejected
here I cower in the cracks waiting for a sign.
Invisible and alone
here I weep,
and wait.
Until the whisper of what is
overcomes the roar of what should not be,
and I find you moving the mountain
with the mustard seed I grasp.