“You are a prophet of caves, rocks and deserts”, she states wittingly—my poetic, thought-provoking teacher of all things spiritual. The one who uses extraordinary words like “coruscate” and “obfuscate” and “mercurial” in our ordinary, every-day chats.
Standing still inside myself, I reckon, “It takes one to know one”.
Wilderness wanderers eating the locust and wild honey of life—the revelation of creation that declares the Majesty of God. We give thanks and eat. Our spirits strengthened with each taste.
We reach the top of Maine’s Little Kineo Mountain. Spectacular scene. Bathed in the glorious sunlight above the treetops. Free of a shadowed view. We eat the vision.
And then…something happens.
Although the air is still, a thunderous roar comes from the sky. An intense sound—like that of a jumbo jet engine. Like the sound of a mighty rushing wind. We stand motionless in holy fear as what can only be described as the very presence of God moves upon the mountaintop. Both feel it. Both experience it. Both awe-struck.
Next morning, I search, and He reveals. Kineo, a Greek word meaning to move; to set in motion. Where we get our English word kinetics.
“For in Him we live, and move (kineo) and have our being… “. I recall the Apostle’s words.
Something moved upon us on Mount Kineo that day. Someone moved upon us and within us, and we were moved.
A mountaintop experience–not meant to teach but to transform.
It all becomes clear on the mountain.
Standing still inside myself, I know who I am. Yes, I am a prophet of caves, rocks and deserts. And the mountains.
My iPhone signals. A text message awaits. It’s her. “Have you been to the mountains lately?”
The mountains call and I run.