Well.
Everytime I write on this, I feel like I'm a different person than the last time I wrote. I guess that's how life is supposed to be, how God made it to be. Every time the sun comes up, we are older, and we have lived through another night, and the clouds are not the same clouds that were on top of the mountains yesterday.
We rode up to Hidden Lake last night, up through the trees, down into a deep gully, and then up the other side onto a tundra-carpeted ridge that dropped down towards the river valley on one side, with the jagged Talkeetna Mountains beyond. But on the other side, the side past the lake, the tundra rolled up long and green across the high country foothills, and a pre-storm light came across from the west, and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
High country. Up above the treeline, closer to the peaks than to the river, life looks different. You and your horse both had to work to get there. You look across that high country, and something inside of you knows that hard work is worth it, that hard places are sometimes the most beautiful.
I've changed since I came up here to Alaska three weeks ago. Jesus has been refreshing me, challenging me, healing me. He has made me realize that instead of complaining about my feet being caught in the tundra, I need to look up, need to look out all around me, and know that what He has me in the midst of is beautiful.
I am learning. Maybe we all never stop changing. May we change in the direction of His reflection.
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