A couple of weeks ago my husband and I took a long weekend
and drove to Durango, CO. What was meant to be a nice refreshing weekend, and
it was, also gave me some thoughts about faith and God’s call.
After we arrived, we rode the chair lift at the Durango
Mountain/Purgatory Ski Resort. It takes you up to the top of one of the ski
runs and from there you can wander around the trails, or just ride back down.
Sitting in the chair lift with nothing but a bar between me and a long drop
didn’t worry me. I just sat back and enjoyed the scenery, thinking about all
the little animal eyes that were probably watching.
At the top, we found a nature trail and went along it for a
ways. The mountains all around and the wild flowers were beautiful. The 10,000
ft. elevation did slow us down just a bit, but it gave us a chance to really
look around. The bursting life was everywhere, baby pine trees near the path
and on a fallen log, moss or lichen sending up pillars (no doubt full of
spores).
I was reminded of the diversity and infinity of God’s
creation and how we can take it for granted. Riding back down the chair lift at
a level with the tops of the tall pines made me feel both insignificant and
part of the entirety of creation.
Another adventure was the tour of the Old 100 Gold Mine at
Silverton, CO. My father worked as a mining engineer when I was in grade
school, so I had a little knowledge of what a mine is and does. However, I had
never been inside a mine. What surprised me was the dampness of the tunnels.
You wouldn’t think solid granite could drip, but it does. Limestone, like at
Carlsbad Caverns, is more porous and so having that be drippy in spots wasn’t
as surprising. And, of course, at Carlsbad you expect drips since that is how
the formations were formed. In the gold mine, there were not stalactites or
stalagmites because the minerals aren’t water soluble, but there was water
seeping in and through and dripping from the ceiling and even running out the
trench beside the track.
What sort of theological thoughts did that inspire, you ask?
It made me consider how God’s grace seeps into even the hardest of hearts, but
you won’t know it’s there until the heart is open and you find that living
water.
Speaking of water, the Animas River runs from above
Silverton through Durango and on toward the Grand Canyon. As most people know,
there was a nasty spill of old mine waste into the Animas a month or so ago. It
dyed the water a yucky orange and added dangerous chemicals to the water. In
most places the water is now running clear, but along the edges and in eddies
the water is still orange and you can see the orange line along the river
rocks. However, the very fact that most of the water is running clear gave me
another theological thought.
The rushing water, and the rushing Spirit of God, are both
cleansing agents. The water washes the pollutants out and the Spirit washes our
souls. We have to be careful, though, of the eddies that retain the pollutants
and sin in our lives.
Over all, the weekend was not just restful, it gave me some
thought provoking things to ponder and questions to consider.
What part of God’s action in my life am I missing because I
don’t take time to look around?
Has it been God’s grace or the world’s influence that seeped
into my heart?
How can I be open to allowing the Spirit to flow through my
soul, cleansing and renewing?
