A View of the Mountain
Thursday, January 17th, 2008![]()
The high tech grid called Silicon Valley lies between the Santa Cruz Mountain Range to the west and the Diablo Range to the east. From my home on a typical day, we can see the mountains vaguely in the distance, more or less obscured by clouds, rain, fog, or smog.
On some summer days, the mountains disappear entirely from view, replaced by a thick curtain of murky air. I dislike those days; I feel trapped in an opaque bell jar, disconnected from the earth and my larger environment.
This morning, however, was a rarity — perfect viewing conditions. As I drove along the highway, the atmosphere was so clear that the mountain appeared to have moved within touching distance. I couldn’t help but dwell on the sight, point it out to my kids, and ask my friends if they’d noticed.
My relationship with Jesus is like this situation. The murkiness of the space between has a great deal to do with whether I experience closeness with him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he actually is right there, very close to me. When I’m talking with him, depending on him, learning about him, and pointing him out to others, the spiritual air between us clarifies.
Jesus is closer than we think.
How do you keep the space between clear?
