I know I don’t often say this, but here goes….”Rod was right.” At least this time 🙂 When Rod would recount the time he spent here in Bolivia 2 years ago, he would describe it as a country of contrast. I couldn’t agree more, now that I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Brand new high rise buildings beside run down shacks, fancy restaurants right next to someone selling soup from a tiny cart, old beat up Volkeswagon Beetles sharing the same road with expensive imported vehicles, mansions beautifully decorated and likely complete with washers and dryers overlooking a mountain river where locals walk, who knows how far, to wash their clothes there and then drape them on the rocks to dry.
Outside of people and circumstances, my own realization of this “country of contrasts” was in the nature that surrounds me. Two things stand out as I take in the unfamiliarness of my new home. 1) the mountains and 2) the dust. Two very different things.
Words can not do justice to describe these mountains. They seem so close to me that I feel like I could reach out and touch them. They are literally all around me. The grandeur of the mountain, so breath taking, so magnificent. However, I notice that the locals don’t seem to take in their beauty as often as I seem to. They are about many different things and I wonder if they’ve forgotten how blessed they are to behold this sight everyday. The magnitude of the mountain seems lost in the mundane moments of everyday life.
How true is this in my life when I think about the Greatness of my God? Do I stop everyday to soak in His majesty and beauty? Do I stop long enough to lift up my eyes, let alone throw back my head and sing, “How great is our God” or “mountains bow down….at the sound of your name?”
The second object of contrast that I’ve noticed is the dust. Just like the mountains, dust surrounds me too. The wind carries it through the air, my feet stir it up with each step I take and my kids are magnets for it! Dust. It’s so small, so tiny, so dry. It seems very insignificant compared to the mountains. However, it does have its place. Dust makes me think of me. To think that the Almighty Creator made the first human from dust. It makes me think of how small I am in contrast to the Great I am. I also think about the times in my life when my spirit can be so dry, in desperate need of the cool, refreshing stream that flows down from on high.
Mountains and dust. Me and God. Such stark contrasts, yes, but God in his infinite grace and mercy has allowed the gap between us to close because of the saving work of the cross. Jesus’ death and resurrection has brought me life and freedom. Life and freedom to rise from the dust to live out my destiny as the daughter of the King. The King who sits enthroned by the angels on Mount Zion.
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