Well, at the moment, it’s actually the Charlotte Airport, but for the past week it’s been Asheville and various perches in mountainside cabins. It’s been a glorious week. There is something utterly soul-altering in separating oneself from “normal life” and spending a week immersed in the decided peace of a hidden mountain home. It provides the soul with an abundance of hours to fill with the rare delights of really good relaxation; i.e., mountain sunsets, winter gardens, great books, long movies, good food and lots of tea. Sometimes I feel that modern life with it’s mindless rush almost siphons the energy, the vim for gracious living right out of my bones.
I want to live life in a dancing, wondrous-eyed sort of way. I want to know God’s presence not just in my hungering prayers but in the tangible mercy of his creation. In my more spiritually lucid days I always feel that God is heartbeat close in music, that somehow nature mirrors the very fabric of his character, that stories tell a great tale about the epic of which i am part. But modern life with its freeways and technology and noise so frazzles me at times that I barely feel able to concentrate or be quiet and enjoy beauty even for a solid minute.
The lovely hush of these last few days has taken me by the hand and led me back to a peace of heart and a joy in God’s tangible goodness that I have long missed.