When the mist lifts

We had just finished our midterm exams in Milan. My roommate and I used our three-day weekend to visit the Swiss Alps. The destination was Grindelwald to see the legendary alp, the Jungfrau. It was November. The Alpine green of the hills had faded and the season of snow-covered villages hadn’t arrived. Mountains and town were blanketed in fog. On our walk up the hill to an inn from the train station, there wasn’t an alp in sight. After a visit with the innkeeper, we slept.

At dawn’s light, I awoke. Defying the season, the sun shone, and right outside my window was a magnificent alp piercing the sky—the Jungfrau. The mist had lifted. Rather than feeling diminished by the magnitude and proximity of the mountain, I felt lifted up to it and its near-limitless dimensions.

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Bible Lens—June 4–10, 2018
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