Every time I feel lost in this new place, I just look up.
An enormous mountain rises so high that you can see it no matter where you are. When you observe it, you immediately reorient. You suddenly know which direction to go.
I find myself desperate for that mountain. With every turn in the car, I’m shifting in my seat, craning my neck to find it. And then I relax. “This is the right way,” I say. I don’t even need street names anymore. I just drive on with that mountain beside me, and I know I’ll make it home.
I’ll remember the simplicity of looking up to find a mountain as I continue in this journey of faith.
Journal: What in my life has been a fixed mountain for me?