The Summit

...What may happen in the next few minutes borders on the holy.

The quietness will slow my pulse, the silence will open my ears, and something sacred will happen.

The soft slap of sandaled feet will break the stillness, a pierced hand will extend a quiet invitation and I will follow.

I wish I could say it happens every night; it doesn't. Some nights he asks and I don't listen. Other nights he asks and I just don't go. But some nights I hear his poetic whisper, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened..." and I follow. I leave behind the budgets, bills and deadlines and walk the narrow trail up the mountain with him.

You've been there. You've escaped the sandy foundations of the vally and ascended his grand outcropping of granite. You've turned your back on the noise and sought his voice.. You've stepped away from the masses and followed the Master as he led you up the winding path to the summit.

His summit. Clean air. Clear view. Crisp breeze. The roar of the marketplace is down there, and the perspective of the peak is up here.

Gently your guide invites you to sit on the rock above the tree line and look out with him at the ancient peaks that will never arode. "What is necessary is still what is sure." he confides. "just remember:
You'll go nowhere tomorrow that I haven't already been.
Truth will still triumph.
Death will still die.
The victory is yours.
And delight in one decision away - seize it."

The sacred summit. A place of permanence in a world of transition.

Think about the people in your world. Can't you tell the ones who have been to his mountain? Oh, their problems aren't any different. And their challenges are just as severe. But there is a stubborn peace that enshrines them. A confidence that life isn't toppled by unmet budgets or rerouted airplanes. A serenity that softens the corners of their lips. A contagious delight sparkling in their eyes.

And in their hearts reigns a fortresslike confidence that the valley can be endured, even enjoyed, because the mountain is only a decision away.


(C) Max Lucado, The Applause of Heaven.