Pikes Peak And God

Pikes Peak and God

In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O LORD, will keep me safe. Psalm 4:8

Life’s fogs don’t always come in the form of great tragedies. Sometimes they show up as disappointments: not getting the promotion for which we worked, not having our offer accepted on that dream house. Sometimes fogs come as irritants through a gum-cracking coworker or the dog who charges us as we bike in our own neighborhood. But whatever the situation, God still is there.

I live in beautiful Colorado Springs, Colorado, which faces the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains. Prominent above the city is Pikes Peak, also called “America’s Mountain.” The view from the top of the 14,110-foot peak inspired Katharine Lee Bates to write the lyrics to “America the Beautiful.”

My tiny town house offers me a view of that majestic peak, as long as I don’t mind looking across the pavement and past a couple of rooftops. So every morning, I meander down the hallway into the loft area and look out the window. If I’m looking at the peak within a couple of minutes of the sunrise, the mountain shimmers as the sun’s rays hit the pink granite. On winter mornings, the rays hit the snowcap, making the snow glow even whiter. And occasionally, storm clouds obscure the view.

Yes, I’m disappointed when that happens. But I don’t throw my hands up and grumble, “I knew it was too good to be true. I bought this place because of that mountain, and now it’s gone! Why did I ever believe the real estate agent when she commented on the lovely view! It was all just a lie.”

Of course, I don’t say that. I know the Peak is still there, even though clouds have temporarily obscured the view. But how many times have we had similar thoughts about God? The wonderful truth is that he is still with us even when life’s clouds obscure our view. Even when we can’t see him, he hasn’t lost sight of us. And what a difference that makes. —SANDRA

Lord, it’s so easy to focus on the fog, whether it’s a storm covering Pikes Peak or a personal trauma hiding your face. Remind me of your presence when I can’t see you. Speak to me in ways I will recognize as coming only from you.

At the root of the Christian life lies belief in the invisible. The object of the Christian faith is unseen reality.

—A. W. TOZER (1897–1963), AMERICAN PASTOR, PREACHER, AND AUTHOR