God Winked At Me

By Randy Knapp

When I feel the pressures of life closing in on me and I need a break, I head for the hills to do some strenuous climbing. I’ve already climbed to Mount McLaughlin’s 9495’ summit three times this year and will likely repeat the ascent two more times before the winter snows reclaim its heights. Each time I climb the mountain I return home utterly spent, and I limp around in pain for two days while the muscles and joints of my legs and feet recover from the apparent abuse.

So, why do I do it? It’s simply this. Each time I climb, I know that somewhere on the mountain God will reveal Himself to me in a unique and incredibly special way. It happens every time without fail.

Recently, I began climbing the mountain at 4:00 am. It was utterly dark and the forest canopy blotted out all but the most persistent starlight. I hefted my pack and turned on my IPOD to listen to a book my son had recommended about the spiritual journey of a pastor from Redding, California.

I found my stride easily and set a pace I could maintain throughout the climb. My heart was pumping powerfully and my lungs found their perfect rate of respiration. I was in my zone. The pastor set the stage for his story and I dropped in for the spiritual ride.

The air was cool and I knew Jesus was walking with me.

Two and a half hours into the climb I was breathing hard as the slope steepened considerably toward my favorite spot on the mountain. The east face overlook stands at about 8,000 feet where the trail finally emerges from under the tree cover and crests onto the lower limbs of the southeast ridge. From there the vista encompasses the whole east face, the jagged arête of the northeast ridge, and the dark triangle that forms the summit pyramid.

I was twenty minutes below the overlook when God said, “Listen closely here. This is for you.” The pastor began to describe how he had finally learned to trust God in a very difficult situation. God said, “You need to learn to trust Me this way.”

The eastern sky was just blushing pink. The dawn was sending out fingers of light over the low horizon, testing the remaining strength of the waning darkness. With the coming of day, the fog lifted from my mind. I got it! “I can do that,” I said. “I can trust You like that.” I understood what He was trying to tell me. I felt the presence of the Spirit smother me in a powerful embrace.

As I crested the ridge and stood on the overlook, I turned my eyes toward the sunrise. In the moment of my turning, the first rays of the morning sun blinked over the horizon. God winked at me.

Remember that place you used to go to meet God? Hurry back there. God’s got a smile on His face and something up His sleeve. He’s waiting just for you.

Randy writes from Medford, Oregon. You can correspond with him at knappsnest@msn.com