Spring Returns...

I’m not sure anyone opened our doors to spring better than Billy, the amazing son-in-law. He’s quiet, but atrociously funny. And smarter than most of us… http://www.wdepriest.com/

Today, I’m in shorts, mowing the lawn. Bad news, because we have many more weeks of wet weather and there will be consecutive weeks when the mower won’t agree to go outside. It will sit in the garage, waiting for better weather. Over my shoulder is The Mountain, as Meriwether Lewis noted, “The pinnacle of the round topped mountain, which we saw a short distance from the banks of the river…” Native Americans called it Wy’east, victor of many battles between Mt. Adams and Mt. St. Helens …

Moving away from Portland in 1979, to the flatlands of Orange County , I couldn’t believe how attached I had become to Mt. Hood . I’d arise each morning, hoping for smog-free skies, looking to the East. Hoping there could be a spiritual Guide, looking out for me. None appeared.

We moved again, yet nothing had moved in to take its place. I could visit the ocean, see the sun set on the Golden Gate . Each are touching memories. Each home we built together was special, giving rise to laughter, some amazing “antique” pictures, and events none of us will ever forget.

Then, we moved back to Portland . We could see the Mountain from our deck. Driving to work each morning, I could check the weather by what kind of Mountain appeared. Not only does it have its own sayings…”If you can’t see the Mountain it must be raining….if you can see it the rain will come soon.” But it also has its own magnetism. Better from distance than while standing on its slopes.

Why today…a gorgeous spring day, to think of The Mountain?

I began my Monday with a phone call from a dear friend and work colleague. She was simply inquiring about my health, because she’d had some difficult news. A special person to both of us was diagnosed with breast cancer. In college, this special person was adored by all. I was lucky enough to play intramurals with her boyfriend, who’d someday become her husband. They went on about life, we went on about ours…and yet reconnected when I took my current position. He’d fought lymphoma, so we learned we had far more in common than aging ratball stories.

Disturbed, and so challenged by my first interaction at work this week, I opened my email to find that yet another friend, once again a spouse of a special doctor, had also been diagnosed with cancer. The days passed in something of a trance, as I worried about their families, their kids, the ways that each collection of special friends would step forward to offer compassion and grace. Could it get worse?

On Thursday, while quickly perusing the obituaries, yet another friend had passed away. Was it Divine Intervention that caused me to read them that day? How would I have felt without knowing of her passing? Of course no one would call me, we weren’t that close. Her husband worked for me, once upon a time and far ago…but we’ve stayed in contact and laugh over cocktails from time to time. I'd spoken with him but three weeks ago, and she was "recovering" from difficult surgery and radiation, but the arc was upward, not down.

The Mountain remains steadfast. Thank GOODNESS we had sun all week. I could drive home and see it in the distance, just barely over a different river. I could go to Judy’s and see it glowing in the sunset, while everything else grew dim. It could anchor me on the way to the funeral this morning.

Thank you, God, for sharing your natural wonders with us. Spring isn’t just the crack of the bat, or the whistle of the slice toward the condos. It is the Mountain, covering the sunrise and giving us a marker for spring. When the sun rises on the Mountain, we know that summer cannot be far. More than that, however, we know that our Lord remains constant, watching over us like a Mountain in the distance, caring for all the changes we recognize….and serving as a sentinel when we need Him the most.