“i can drop you off at the mall.” is what he said.
“no, that’s okay”
mostly, i just wanted to hike.
i wanted to seek and hear his
“is there something around here i can climb?’ i asked, and he dropped me at the foot of a hill.
funny how small a hill can look and yet how much
muscle it takes to make your way up and back down again.
i’m sure it’s the reason locals call hills
“i’m going all the way up,” i commit to myself, “and i’m not coming down until i hear from the lord.”
i reached the top and sat and sat and sat.
and with quiet determination, i waited.
and as i soak in the tender moment of silence-of
“be still and know”
in the arizona sun-i’m reminded of christmas chestnuts
soft and sweet to taste, hidden in a leather skin.
the kind that pop! in the fire.
maybe this is what i’ve been waiting for.
i lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
my help comes from the lord,
the maker of heaven and earth.