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Peace in the Saddle

There is something about throwing on a pair of tennis shoes and hefting your weight up Saddle Rock.

It just never gets old.

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I mean, our knees and hips…those things are audibly creaking. But the beauty… God’s beauty. It’s worth every shin splint.

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Back when I wore a black Timex even to church, that year after college and before a paycheck, I used to hit the trails of Saddle Rock alone.  I’d press the start button on my stopwatch and pound up the trail.

Because life was a race.Then.

With kids, though, we stop for a beetle. And we wonder how long he’s been balancing on his head like that.

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And then we walk again.

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And some more.

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Until the top opens up and God’s awesomeness is ready for the inhale.

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It’s the closest I can sense to being in the world, but not of the world. Though that’s probably not what Jesus meant at all.

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It’s being with these guys with the city at our heels, feeling like we’ve conquered something.

Or like we’ve let something go.

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Because up here, we can just be.

Us.

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Not the ‘hurried’ us. Or the ‘ungrateful’ us.

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The innate us.

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Who can still gape at the gift of the green hills…

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And suck in our breath at the slope of the rocks.

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Who can dash down the dirt in one moment…

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And marvel at our muscles in the next.

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Until…we’re here again… back at the sign we started at.

The same.

And different.

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One Response to “Peace in the Saddle”

  1. Carolyn Moore says:

    I felt your awe and wonder of nature. I related to your gain. I understood the hurry of youth and the pace that is required to see that which is not obvious. Thanks for the ride!!

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