Hiking Columbine Trail

Fall

The trail wound too close to the edge of the mountain. My foot kicked a pebble loose, and it skittered over the side. I avoided watching it's wake, scared to lean over. We were the back group in a crew of thirty, the others racing to the top.

My camera remained a ready friend in my hand, capturing every moment of the beauty. Mountains rose all around us, a tribute to the strength of my King. We rounded a corner into the most beautiful crag in the rock, full of flora and fauna, perfect for exploring.

That's when it hit. A raindrop. Then another and another. We heard the group ahead of us begin to yell as the sky blackened and lightening flashed. A mountain is not the safest location in a Colorado thunderstorm. Our leader came sprinting down the trail, the others in her wake. Water wound down the red mud, sliding beneath her feet.

"Get off the mountain. Get off the Mountain. Lord, get all these students off the mountain safely," I heard her whispered prayer as she whipped past me. My friends and I began to run, now more concerned with the lightening than the proximity of the edge. Water ran like a stream between my feet, and I began to laugh, a rough year of college bleeding off with the refreshment of a summer storm and the adventure of a Colorado mountain hike. As the potential of falling off the cliff increased with the deluge, I had no fear.

I fell more in love with Jesus in that storm.

"Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge Him. As surely as the sun rises, He will appear; He will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth." Hosea 6:3

Linking up with other writers at Lisa-Jo's for Five Minute Friday.