We sat there, perched a little over 9,000 ft - waiting.
Our group had hiked up the evening before. It was the first time I’d climbed that high. My prairie-raised lungs and legs staunchly protested the abusing, but it had been worth it. Each turn brought stunning views causing frequent self-pinching.
It’s been over a year now...time’s pace never ceases to amazes me. I was a newcomer to the diverse state of California, a tyro to the “wilderness” of the Sierra’s (some more intrepidly inclined might laugh at the wilderness-ness of it).
Supper was had on a nook above the rocky steep. The 80 stroked its way on valley floor below twinkling Christmas-lit by headlights. An elegant sunset tucked us in, fully dressed snuggling sleeping bags, under cleft. Starry panorama dazzled us dreamland-ward.
We greeted the morning before dawn. Absolutely nothing compares to waking up on top of the world (talk about the right side of bed:) Scrambling upward, wind whistled through hair and sweaters bringing us to instant alertness. Lake Tahoe, a muted jewel at early hours, slumbered pastel on the horizon.
Sitting, shivering on craggy outcrop, we waited.
Sky eastward continued to change color.
We waited.
Waited eagerly for the golden ball, fire rising.
We waited.
Checking time on phone, counting seconds.
We waited.
And then...yellow warmth licking faces, eyes sparkling. It leaped, dancing across surrounding peaks, showering the world in sunlight.
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
And in His word I do hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
More than those who watch for the morning—
Yes, more than those who watch for the morning.
-Psalm 130: 5,6
Are we willing to wait for Him like that?
Thanks for letting me use the picture, Adam:)
