It was four
years ago. I was going to school in Portland, OR and driving to camp on the
weekends. Every Friday I packed my car and drove east on I-84. I passed
Multnomah Falls on my route. I had been there before and seen the falls “up
close.” So I knew what it was like. I
loved the falls. So massive. So different than what I was used to seeing in
Montana. So every time I drove by, as carefully as I could, I would try my
hardest to look and see the waterfall from the highway. Just to get a glance.
Make sure it was still there. Usually, I would. I would see it for a split
second, and quick with my eyes back on the road. Sometimes I would miss it.
I’d keep
driving, always thought “I’ll stop on my way next time.” And make my way to
camp. Love, love, love camp. I would spend my weekends there. Serving my Jesus,
serving people beside some of my favorite people. It really was a sweet thing.
Maybe not the most wise though. I booked my weekends and would get back to
school on Sunday just in time to finish my homework and get to class. I call
this season “the season of blind passion.” Youth. Energy. Passion. All
beautiful things. (I’m still young, still full of energy, still passionate!)
But there was no down time. No REST. No trusting Jesus that he liked the me
minus the serving, going, doing, passion. So I would drive by, I would get my
very tiny moment of seeing the iconic Multnomah Falls, the massive rush of
water.
Then on
February 18, 2013, my sweet friend and I decided, spontaneously, to go to the
falls. It was night time, probably not the best time for two girls to go
somewhere in the dark. Mercy. We bundled up and grabbed a flashlight. I had
never been to the bridge. We planned on making the trek up the trail, paved
switchbacks, to the bridge.
BUT when we
got up there, instantly my senses were overwhelmed. I shrinked back. For a
second I was afraid. It was loud. I thought a train was about to bust around
the corner. I think I gasped. At that point, Nadine said, “it’s okay,” or
something to that effect. So I kept walking. We got to the bridge. I remember
screaming because it was so awesome, amazing! The water was so loud we had to
yell to hear each other speak. My face was getting wet. I could feel the rush,
the wind smacking my face with water droplets. So close, I felt like I could reach out and touch it.
It was then in my heart, I heard the Lord say:
"Now you see
Me, Now you hear Me."
We have to
come close to God to see Him, to hear Him, to know His heart, to understand His
character. We cannot settle for trying to get a glance as we zoom by on our way
to who knows where.
“Draw near to
God and He will draw near to you.” James 4:8
