January 8, 2011
It was my first run into the desert since the boys were born. My worn-out Asics wobbled over the wash-board road. Heart and lungs fought for equilibrium as I heaved the dry air and trudged a mild ascent. I needed some time alone – away from the people I loved most.
My calves and quads began to burn. My chest flamed with the sting of oxygen deprivation, but I pushed ahead, anxious for solitude. At the top of the hill I stopped to take in the view. The west desert sank before me then stretched wide into a scape that was spotted with sagebrush. A cloudless sky rose like an enormous blue curtain above the blackened rock. I was entirely alone…
Read the rest at Segullah today. I wrote about solitude, listening, and this picture (which I did not take but found online) – proof that I have not fabricated the “3 Fingers of Death.”
Come talk with me about going up (or out) into the wilderness and tell me what you’ve found there.
Mary
Hey Cath~
I love reading your writings. They are so inspirational! It is incredible how God speaks to us through nature. I remember one day when I was up at USU and having the crummiest day ever. I felt as if no one in the world loved or cared about me at that moment. Then, as I walked around the corner one of the most incredible sunsets met my eyes and I knew, without a doubt, that I was loved. It's incredible the ways the Lord speaks to each and everyone of us. Sometimes through others, sometimes through nature and always through the Spirit.
catharvy
Mary – that is beautiful. Thank you. Sometimes those small interactions with nature center us – remind us of who we really are and where we've come from. Thank you for sharing this.
Angie
Cath-love how you described your run as your ascics wobbling. I was laughing out loud!!!