There is a sensation that accompanies me while on HOPE Mountain. A feeling that embodies peace and tranquility in my soul. It’s an escape from the despair that resides outside my iron gate. A vacation of sorts from the turmoil that invades the city. It takes me away from my reality, from a place of tangible sentiment in the midst of intangible emotions.
It’s a far from perfect place. The pool needs repairs. The main house longs to be remodeled. The outdoor concrete stairs have cracks. One dorm needs paint, another needs bathrooms. The outdoor bathrooms beg for attention. The animals roam the land as if they own it. Clothes hang continually from the lines as group after group trample the grounds. And it can get noisy up here too!
Tucked away in the rain forest jungle of the Dominican Republic lies a place that will make you cringe with its discomforts, yet relish in it’s majesty.
My early mornings on this mountain make me wonder if it was like this for Moses. He met God on a mountain.
God meets me here.
Jesus stole away to a mountain. His place of escape from the multitude and His place of provision for the multitude was a mountain.
This place that makes me feel safe and vulnerable all at the same time is the home I pegged, “HOPE”. Truth is where reality and hope collide. Deep within that collision is where we choose to embrace the whole truth of expectation and vision for our lives.
Faith grasps us here. Hope and Faith are like kindred spirits that hold us together as life unravels. Courage rises to the occasion and enables us to face it. Face life. A long look at what is real to us will cause us to make a choice.
Accepting what is real to me enables me to accept me. All of me. The crooked parts, the broken pieces, the curves, the unfinished self in the making. All of me.
The beauty. The bounce. The caring heart. The joy. The giggles. The sassy. The part of me that is still unknown. All of me.
Hope causes us to believe far beyond our reality. It works with faith and causes us to reach far into the heart of our dreams. It causes us to take risks and to live out the secret longings of our hearts.
It’s a place of abandonment to what seems normal. It’s a stretch into the deep seeded plans that God ordained for our lives.
Hope is knowing that it’s all working out, even though the process may not feel great. Hope is a state of being. A peace in the midst of the many storms of life.
Sometimes my showers on this mountain are cold. Sometimes the rain doesn’t yield it’s fierce downpour. Sometimes the groups are loud and play throughout the night. Sometimes I find someone sitting on my favorite chair in my favorite spot on my massive porch. Sometimes this place is uncomfortable.
I’ve learned to see the beauty in the uncomfortable places in life. The cold showers keep me clean and fresh in this dreadful heat. The rain keeps the flowers and trees beautiful; and it keeps the river flowing. The loud groups keep me feeling alive and surrounded with laughter. When someone is sitting in my spot, it gives me the opportunity to humble myself and to give. The uncomfortable makes life beautiful.
Hoping makes me uncomfortable. So I make an intentional choice to go to my mountain. My mountain is my meeting place with my Maker. I see Him there. In the moments where reality surrounds me, but doesn’t consume me is where I find Him.
Sometimes its on a balcony on HOPE Mountain. Sometimes its in a recliner in our loft in Virginia. Sometimes its in my corner of the bed in the middle of the night or on the wooden floor of our upper pavilion. Sometimes its on my knees or lying flat on the floor. Sometimes tears drown my face and cries flow from my belly. Sometimes I’m full of laughter or just quiet in His presence.
My mountain is anywhere I find Him.
It takes courage and strength to keep believing when life declares defeat. It takes determination and tenacity to hold on when life keeps letting go.
Hope won’t let me stop. Hope won’t let me quit. Hope keeps me and resounds, “Try again.”
My God is my mountain of Hope. He is my mountain. He is my place of solace. I relish in His tranquility. He is my place to reflect as I strategize my next move. He reignites my hope and gives me life over and over and over again. My Mountain of Hope is my tranquility in my boisterous existence.