Mountains

“I just want to do God's will. And he’s allowed me to go to the mountain. And I've looked over, and I've seen the promised land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promised land.” Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. From an address given in Memphis the night before his assassination, April 3, 1968

The prophetic words of a man whom I believe knew just a bit about what it was like to hold onto an undying hope.

Last week I was blessed to spend a few days in the central area of Alabama. There were many mountaintop experiences over those three days. I have a hard time (even today) trying to soak in all the experiences that took place over such a short period of time. The weather was beautiful as my dear friend Dale drove me to the mountain overlooking a serene lake where she works for the Department of Homeland Security protecting the dam from the threat of terror. As we took off straight up the side of the mountain as if launching into the sky I got to thinking “boy, I guess if a person has to work for a living (which most of us do) then this has to be one of the best offices I’ve ever seen.”

You could see what seemed like forever from the place we sat at the top of the mountain. What a gorgeous view!

Later that day we headed out to a place called Palisades Park, which is located near the end, or beginning (depending on which way you’re heading) of the Appalachian mountain range. They’re just an unbelievable number of cliffs and ledges to cautiously walk out on to overlook the beautiful valley below. There were climbers roped off on almost every cliff as this area was vibrant with life that day. Birds, (mostly buzzards) the size of small aircrafts hovered overhead as we stood with our toes stretched forth to mere inches from a stomach turning drop off below. Yet the view was magnificent!

We left the mountains and drove to another hilltop – not quite a mountain, yet it was most definitely a higher ground. The gravesite markers spread across the land like pixels. From the top of the hill where we stood it was as if the evidence of death went on for ever in all directions. As we got out of the truck she pointed to where her father laid.

Herbert C. Osborn was a Birmingham Police Officer during the upstart of the civil rights movement in our country and was killed accidently while on duty in 1962. She talks of him as if one were talking about the greatest among us. He truly was her hero, and even more so today! She smiled from ear to ear as she recalled one of her fondest memories of her dad. As a small girl she looked on in secret as he danced wildly to Chubby Checker’s hit song from that era The Twist. She could still describe almost fifty years later every item on his police belt from her memory. The long flashlight, the night stick, the handcuffs, the holster and gun as they flung side to side as her ol’ man was having the time of his life before he headed off to work.

“Full of life” she said, “he was oh so full of life.”

For a nine year old girl losing her dad, as well as her hero was as tragic as it could get. Her life was altered drastically from that day forward in ways she detailed for me in confidence. We lay side by side on the grass covering his grave looking up at the beautiful blue sky with tears in both of our eyes. I suspect maybe he was looking back down at his little girl with a big smile on his face as he gazed with pride at the remarkable woman she’s become.

It was time to come down from the mountain, for it had been a full day to say the least. What had started out as an improvised time of prayer and praise in the morning had turned out to be one of the most significant days I’ve ever experienced. True quality time with God, friends, and nature and I know all too well it doesn’t get any better than that.

Sunday morning came with a trip down the road to Mountain Pointe Ministries on the outskirts of the city of Oneona and to what may have been the ultimate purpose of my visit. I found that Pastor Bob Bryant and his congregation are simply overflowing with the Holy Spirit, and by the time the praise team got through leading us in a time of worship I was ready to take flight. Group after group sang song after song and with each one my heart moved closer to God’s. It was a connection to the Lord like I’ve had at no other time in my life.

We stayed over after the first service for a really good Sunday school lesson taught by a guy who recalled how God had used his sister to help deliver him years earlier from the stranglehold of a serious drug addiction. I absolutely love unpretentiousness! And if you know me, you know there was no way I would leave without staying for the late service as well. The movement of the Spirit was so strong in this place I could’ve stayed all day and well into the night. I now know a little bit about what Tommy Tenney was writing in his book God Chasers.

Mountain Pointe, what a great place to worship! It’s no wonder their building is overflowing with hundreds of believers as they hurriedly work at building a new sanctuary.

Martin Luther King Jr. saw mountaintop experiences on the horizon for impoverished and repressed Americans of all color, and no one could silence him from sharing his dream. He shouted with a loud voice for ALL the world to hear. It seems like I’m finding more and more lately that mountains may be made for climbing, yet it’s well within our reach to get to a point where we can simply moved them aside with the right amount of faith.

I believe Martin Luther King climbed mountains both diligently and courageously throughout his life, and in the end his faith moved many, many others.

The mountains of central Alabama which I climbed this past weekend are the same that so many people climbed in the 1960’s both figuratively and literally. Mountains of much beauty, and mountains of sure death. Mountains of wondrous sights, and mountains that beckon our minds to question so many things that make no sense in this world. Mountains of pure joy, and mountains of knowledge that we still have so much work left to do while here on earth. Mountains everywhere.

As I reflect over the past couple of years I praise God for staying with me while I’ve crossed through the lonely valleys, as well as during the seemingly endless climb up the steep sides of the mountains of my own making.

Let me ask you, do you recall the next line from the speech I quoted above which he gave mere hours before his death? If not, it goes like this;

“So I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man.”

What a way to live. Happy in the present - not worried about the future - in fear of no one for I know where my salvation comes and where my hope for eternity rest.

I’m going to leave you with one of my favorite quotes about life, mountains, and other stuff from Nadine Staire.

If I had my life to live over I'd like to make more mistakes next time. I'd relax. I would limber up. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I would take fewer things seriously. I would take more chances. I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less beans. I would perhaps have more actual trouble, but I'd have fewer imaginary ones. You see, I'm one of those people who live sensibly and sanely hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I've had my moments, and if I had to do it over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day. I've been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I had to do it again, I would travel lighter than I have. If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go to more dances. I would ride more merry-go-rounds, I would pick more daisies. Nadine Stair

I think just maybe I’ve finally reached a point in my life where I can put her advice into action from here on out.

Still climbing mountains, Doug.