Blog When the Mountain Decides Who Gets Through

Happy Monday, everybody! As I sit here looking through the big front window, rain is running down the glass so hard that the world beyond it looks like a watercolor painting. The mountains are disappearing behind gray curtains, thunder is rolling across the sky, and every so often lightning tears through the darkness like the heavens are taking our picture. Then, just as quickly as it began, the rain stops. The clouds break apart. The sun comes shining through. Everything glistens, and for a few peaceful minutes, the mountain looks innocent again. But we know better. When we first arrived at Peace Mountain this year, we hardly received a drop of rain. The ground was dry, the dust was deep, and every day we watched the sky hoping the clouds might finally bring us a little relief. At the end of July, the campfire restrictions were lifted. Breezie and I were excited because sitting beside a fire in the mountains is one of those simple pleasures that makes this place feel like home. But since the beginning of August, the rain we waited so long for has come back with a vengeance. Now, nearly every other day, the clouds build over the mountain and the monsoons come crashing down. These are not gentle summer showers tapping politely on the roof. These storms pound the earth. Water races down the mountain, carrying mud, rocks, branches, and pieces of the road along with it. We have been under flood watches so often that, even though campfires are allowed again, we have only managed to enjoy one. The easiest road off our mountain has been hit the hardest. Down near the bottom, the rushing water has eaten away so much of it that our Jeep can barely squeeze through. The culverts are exposed, the road has become dangerously narrow, and large chunks of earth continue falling away from the edges. One wrong move, one more hard downpour, or one more section giving way could make that road completely impassable. The other way out is already the more difficult road. We do not even know what condition that one is in yet. Tomorrow, if the weather gives us a chance, Breezie and I are going to try to make our way into town. I suppose that will be when we find out whether the mountain is ready to let us through. Until then, we sit here listening. Rain drums against the roof. Thunder shakes the windows. Water pours from the sky so hard that you can barely see beyond the glass. Then the storm moves on, the sun returns, and the birds come back out as if nothing ever happened. Living out here teaches you something about control. We make plans. We watch the weather. We choose our roads. We convince ourselves that we know what tomorrow will bring. Then the sky opens, the earth moves beneath us, and nature reminds us that we were never in charge of everything. Maybe that is not such a terrible lesson. Sometimes the road we expected to travel washes away. Sometimes the easy way becomes unsafe, and the harder road is the only choice left. Sometimes all we can do is wait out the storm, trust what we have learned, and move forward carefully when the time is right. That does not mean we are trapped. It means we are being reminded to slow down. Life is a lot like this mountain. There will be storms strong enough to change the landscape in front of us. There will be roads we once trusted that we can no longer travel. There will be moments when we cannot see ten feet beyond our own window. But the rain does stop. The clouds do separate. The sun does find its way through again. And even when the road ahead is different from the one we planned on taking, there is almost always another way forward. We may have to travel slower. We may have to be braver. We may even have to turn around and begin again. But as long as there is hope in our hearts, we are never truly stranded. So today, Breezie and I will listen to the rain, watch the lightning dance over Peace Mountain, and be grateful that we are safe, warm, and together. Tomorrow, we will face the road in front of us. Whatever condition it is in, we will take it one careful mile at a time. Because storms may wash away the road behind us, but they can never wash away our faith in the journey ahead.