I feel like I start every post the same way these days. “Hey, I swear I had the best intentions to update weekly, but I fell short again, so I’m going to try to cram three weeks into four paragraphs. Thanks for sticking with me! (Has anyone stuck with me?)” To quote my little sister, it’s fine. Really, everything is fine.
June faded into July far too quickly and July began with me on a Montana-bound airplane with Gracie and her cousin Katie. (Quick plug for Glacier Nat’l Park. You need to go. If you think creation has made you stand in awe of God before, just wait till you’re standing on a lookout across the peaks of the Rockies. Wow.) Actually, I’m going to continue off that parenthetical statement. For the entire duration of our trip, I had one overarching question ricocheting from one side of my brain to the other:
Where did the mountains come from? Did God create them in the very beginning, or are they one of the results of Noah’s flood?
At first this question doesn’t seem like a big deal, right? It’s like, “Whatever. They’re awe-inspiring anyway.” But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to matter. Here’s why: if God created them in the beginning, they’re just a testament to His creative power. If, however, they are from the flood, aren’t they then a lasting testament of God’s intolerance for sin and His rightful power to bring terrible judgment? And what if the answer is both?
For most people the distinction might not be very important, but I’m a mountain-loving kind of girl. Every time I look across the craggy peaks, my heart swells. This trip didn’t take that swell away...it just provided the contrasting valley. It almost said, “Yes, these mountains attest to the glory of God AND how that glory cannot dwell in the presence of sin.”
That was kind of a big deal for me. In fact, it was such a big deal that I’m going to end this post here. Think about it. And I’ll be back before too long.
