Remember the famous line from a song that became a movie title-"the hills are alive with sound of music; with songs they have sung for a thousand years"? Sunday afternoon, after shopping and lunch, I rode in the car over route 130 through the Blue Ridge mountains. We went through one bend after another, and each view was more spectacular then the one before. I commented that the reason we must like mountains so much is that they remind us how small we are and big He is. And that in the grand scheme of things there is a purpose and plan for our lives as beautiful and detailed as the rugged rocks, vivid hues of green, and staggering peaks. After our chatter silenced, I heard the melody of the mountains--calm, tranquil, and rich beyond words. It was as if all the trees were swaying together and joining with the rocks to sing His praises. Before I knew it I found myself fighting tears and my friend was doing the same. I lift mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. As we rode home in silence, I realized how much more I need be still and just know that He is God. Somehow being out in His creation always reminds me of what is important. I found a secret spot that I intend to try to visit everyday to be alone, and to talk with Him about things that burden me. Where I'll lay them down at His feet and leave them there. Then I'll join the happy chorus--which the morning stars began--and fill the hills with the sound of music.
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