Colorado: A Week With the Father
This week in Colorado was a gentle reminder that I am not in control, He is.
There is something truly captivating about Colorado. The broad spectrum of colors and the mountains that seem to sprawl out in every direction only to be met by vast valleys and waterways pulled me in, but there was something more intriguing than the physical beauty I saw.
There was a beauty that you can’t see with your eyes, you have to feel it.
There is a heartbeat in the state.
A voice that announces its tenacity and a spirit that beckons you in deeper.
Every turn we took we were met by the Father.
From the herds of Elk that stood so close I was afraid to breathe or the winding roads that led to mountains that stretched on endlessly. We saw sunrises so full of hope and wonder I find myself questioning if they were real or mere mirages at something I am so desperately in search of.
We encountered rain only once.
On our way to Chapel Rock sheets of rain began to fall and when we arrived we realized too late that the church was closed. We scrambled out of our rental car giddy with the thought of going under the closed fence. Just as I was walking up the steps to peer inside of the church the property manager pulled up and offered us entry regardless of the operation hours. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior, but when we were leaving we were face to face with an ivory carving of Christ that reassured me beyond a doubt that the Lord was leading us.
The rain continued and our phones were out of service. Unsure of where to turn next we continued down the road following a rainbow that stretched across a deep gulch to our right.
By miraculous guidance we made it to Sprague lake after many “wrong” turns that only brought us to more impressive mountain views. We arrived at the lake just as the sun was setting and prayed by the lake. There was such a heavy sense of peace at the lake we would have stayed all night if the chill in the air did not beckon us back to the warmth of our car.
I kept recalling passages from Hind’s Feet on High Places and all that Much Afraid overcame. I am so very much like her. Desperately wanting to trust, but so wounded and in need of human approval that I find myself walking away from Himwhen I need Him the most. This trip taught me to let go and trust in Him more than I had allowed myself to.
“Whenever you are willing to obey me, Much-Afraid, and to follow the path of my choice, you will always be able to hear and recognize my voice, and when you hear it you must always obey. Remember also that it is always safe to obey my voice, even if it seems to call you to paths which look impossible or even crazy.”
― Hannah Hurnard, Hinds Feet on High Places