Skip to main content

living Zion

great white throne, zion national park

rock formations rise into sea-colored skies
                crags and checkerboard patterns created and being created

desert-scape overlaid with carvings scribbled into the rock
                by The Hand and elements The Hand created


Places evoke feelings, and certain places string together extraordinary feelings.  One such spot for me is Zion National Park.


I’ve been there four times.  The first was quite a few years back.  Our family stayed in the lodge, watched the overly friendly deer, hiked and played in the fallen leaves while listening to a Kenny G Christmas CD.  It was beautiful and mesmerizing.  Each subsequent trip has become a sort of spiritual pilgrimage; a gift from the earth.

The peaks that intersect with the heavens are like massive altars in my world.  A rest tumbles over me in Zion unlike other locations.  It is a thin place where I see God, his etchings in rocks and flowing water.  I hear his whispers in the trees, telling me “peace, be still.”  So, I soak in the solitude and walk the river trail.

selah…

Missy


If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance
Labels:

Comments

  1. sewsavyMarch 19, 2016 at 6:41 AM

    I don't doubt you can see and hear God there. It looks stunning! Never been, probably never get there but what a photo. Love the peaceful flow of your writing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Missy AMarch 23, 2016 at 10:16 AM

      Hi Marlene - yes, it is truly an amazing place. It certainly quiets my soul which we all need in our crazy culture. Happy Easter to you, my friend.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

urban girl in the country

green in concrete For the last lot-of-years I’ve lived in urban areas.  I’ve become a city girl with hints of a flower child mixed with hipster nuances…translated I like to wear skinny jeans.  This is the total opposite of how I grew up, which was on a farm.  My paternal grandparents grew, raised, caught and hunted for everything they ate – radical organic, free-range stuff.  On my Mom’s side of the fam tree, there were green grocers and orchard growers.  Heck, I was in 4-H raising feeder calves and a small flock of wooly sheep.  Gardens, canning, freezing and preserving everything was the ordinary. I carried on the gardening-preserving, saving the spoils piece, until I found myself in fresh veggie-at-a-farmer’s-market heaven!  The foreign city I found myself in had a temperate climate where fruit and vegetables could be grown year ‘round, and … it was sold at a giant open air market every week.  Yippee!  I no longer needed to ...
8 comments
Read more

wishing flower, vulnerable and beautiful

do you see a weed or a wish? Let’s just say, I’m not an early morning girl.  Those who know me appreciate this and quietly leave me alone until I’ve had a chance to emerge from my pre-coffee zombie state.  However, there is a bird glee club that begins at about 3:30, yes in the morning.  It’s lovely and melodic; leaving me no choice but to listen.  Translated, this means I’ve been up before my norm.  The youthful hours are warm, but fresh; they beg for a walk, and so does Isabella. Yesterday was a little cooler so our pace was speedy, at least for my little legs.  We passed cars and bushes and bugs zipping around … and the rejected weed. pulled up by its roots discarded wishing flower tossed aside left at the edge of the sidewalk the sun beat down life ebbing from the slender stalk, leaves drying, privately curling desperate to hold onto being funny , how I noticed the thrown-away on a morning walk my thought to stop and ...
6 comments
Read more

road tripping: french glen and steens mountain

we took a stinkin' lot of dirt roads, but i wouldn't have it any other way The drive wasn’t long by west coast standards, a mere few of hours; which meant there was plenty of leisure (interpreted coffee time) before leaving on another road trip escapade.  I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it is to pack a bag, gas up the car and set out to see what can be seen. An interesting thing I’ve discovered on these exploits, is that having lived in Oregon for the majority of my life, I’ve missed “seeing” a lot of things. You know, I think we all get into the habit of going to the same places, which is a good thing, but we forget about the “other” places that are right in our own backyards. Case in point, yesterday afternoon, when my darling man and I went to Tumalo Falls. I’ve been to Skyliner Snow Park, but never gone the few more dirt road miles to see the falls. Holy cow! Is that lame, or what? a sweet little place, no frills, but plenty of yesteryear ...
8 comments
Read more