Last week I fled the dim, drizzly grayness of the Northwest for the sun and springtime winds of New Mexico. One day I left my sweet children in the care of my parents, and took a 3 1/2 hour drive to the southern most reaches of the state to visit some of my dearest friends.
The drive there was in a word glorious. The sun burnt desert landscape stretched out on either side of an arrow straight road like two arms open in an embrace. The brilliant and vast blue sky contrasted with reddish brown mesas and sloping hills scattered with desert brush, all framed by mountains appearing hazy blue in the distance. I remember why I initially felt closed in and claustrophobic when we moved to Washington. The sky and landscape are so open and vast, I could almost physically feel weight lifted off of me. That and the brilliant sunshine and absence of hollering toddlers in the backseat...
3 hours alone in a car surrounded by sunshine, beautiful scenery, and the soothing voice of Glen Keiser, thoughts and prayers intertwining in an easy dance. Reminiscing about the years I made that drive back and forth from college a younger, more carefree Merrily with an old brown pick up that lacked a stereo. Maybe it was because silence forces introspection and frees prayer, but I always felt God's presence most acutely and painfully (the good kind of painful, the kind mixed with hopeful longing) on those long drives.
If I could make that drive once a year, I think it would be all the therapy I'll ever need.
Its amazing what a change of landscape can do, it seems like wherever we are our longings get wrapped up in them. I relate so much to this. Keep writing dear Merrily.
ReplyDelete