Colorado Rockies hold history in my life. My father's military career
took our family to Colorado Springs, CO my senior year in high school.
Thirty-five years later I returned for my high school reunion. I
looked forward to this trip, but an unexpected convergence of my
attitude with the Colorado altitude made for a difficult time in
is often a challenge for those coming from lower elevations than
its mile-high peaks. Many adapt quickly. Concerns erupted for me
in 1996. These stemmed from the onslaught of vestibular dysfunction
that hit my balance system in 1983, bringing constant dizziness
and my adjustment to the higher elevation never came. Still, God's
touch ministered to my body and spirit.
A favorite spot
revisited during this trip was Glen Haven. A paved road passed the
general store but the rest was dirt roads winding to various cabins
amidst the green and rocks. During my stay I anticipated sitting
by the creek, reflecting on memories and looking at the present.
I took my journal and strolled down to the creek. With necessary
caution I side-stepped downward toward its edge. Rereading the last
entry in the journal, a passage from Scripture, I discovered its
message matched my current feelings:
How I long
for the months gone by, for the days when God watched over me,
when His lamp shone upon my head, and by His light I walked through
darkness! Oh for the days when I was in my prime, when God's intimate
friendship blessed my house, when the Almighty was still with
me and my children were around me, when my path was drenched with
cream and the rock poured out for me streams of olive oil. -Job
I thought of
the different path I had been asked to walk. There was so much energy
needed to keep on moving-physically and emotionally. I pressed these
feelings into my journal:
such a wonderful site from my childhood years. How physically
difficult this trip has been, how hard to breathe, my head a tumbleweed,
nausea so strong. I cry out to You, Lord, and You help me move.
I had hoped I'd hear some fresh word from You, but all my moments
seem spent persevering to get through. Now by this creek I struggle
to write-not what to write, but the simple physical act of writing.
I am being still, listening, hoping. The sound is loud from the
creek. Can You reach me over it? I watch the water tumble over
the stones, smoothing them, refining them. The water diverges
into different paths and then the waters meet again, unified until
the next obstacle. I look down the creek toward the uprising mountain.
It is still. The creek is flowing smoothly below. I hear You whisper
"Not much longer, Lynn." I choose to believe.
-August 28, 1996.
A bit later
an unexpected thunderstorm sends me back to the inn. Once there,
I partially reclined on a couch, the weariness intense, the dizziness
is quiet in this sun room. I lay my head upon my arms that rest
on a window sill. Lace curtains brush the top of my head. The
thunder storm has passed. The sun is storming its light and warmth
through the window. My being rests in its comfort, eyes closed
recording the moment in my whole being, letting it invade my heart.
Yes, Lord, You brought me to the sunroom, not to seek and strive,
but to rest and soak up your Presence, gathering fuel and strength
for the next step.
-August 28, 1996
Those days in
Glen Haven are a treasure. They are a part of what I bring to each
day. The journey with the physical dysfunction still exits. Sunshine
and warmth can still fuel my being. I remember the creek waters
flowing smoothly once they passed the rocky obstacles. The view
of a steady mountain echoes God's words of hope. And I continue
to step into each new day.
Severance is a retired elementary classroom teacher. She is currently
working on a book manuscript for women. Lynn is single and lives
alone in Lynnwood, WA.