Upon This Rock
In the absence of words – eloquent enough to articulate, to capture the moment I had with what lay before me – I continued to marvel and stare at the steep mountain-ridge, line of rocks, boulder and stone. This action, above all others, appeared to be the only recourse that made sense. What presented itself as an unending scale of height and granite-gravitas, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it.
San Diego’s Mountainscape (IMAGE COURTESY: sandiego.org)
Within the span of a decade or so, I had entirely forgotten how much I loved being around, staring at and being near mountainscapes, I love them. For this very sleepy, unassuming SD town, it introduced itself more as a hidden depot of the Arizona plains, rather than what I had previously known: seagulls and shoreline. I was shocked, I couldn’t understand it … I continued to stare.
How could I have landed in this place unfamiliar, with its irrevocably remarkable, unmistakable view? A view that I could not have anticipated, a view that would call upon and harken to my ever-present, deep love for such formidable statues of time and stone.
What I have learned in this short, unexpected moment of a gift without repentance, is that God has a way of unveiling each of life’s clues and details, only when it’s time. Details that comprise of hidden reasons and lessons of the journey at play. Many may embark upon, and / or attempt to embark upon the hustle of inspiration – only to do, rather than to simply be. For years, I was intertwined in this dance of trying to piece-together, string-together and find the perfect moment for my creativity to incubate, to cultivate and flourish. I couldn’t find it – I didn’t understand the importance of environment, nor did I completely comprehend why it mattered.
Without trying, without knowing, God was preparing a place for my gifts. I didn’t know it, until I arrived and looked up. There is a timing and a pace to all of this – this, being the rhythm in which one must create. We have been given a gift, and are merely the stewards of it; I did, however, arrive at this destined place by intentionality and clear perception: intentionally discerning the right place, and perceiving when it was time to make the move. That is important.
These mountains, in their unmoving nature to preserve, to protect a symbolism of what I love, reminded me that our gifts are always there; waiting in the balance of time, the right moment: set in stone to harvest, to flourish.
In Love, (and staying there),
Lindsey