Christ-lighted peaks and mountain dawns

What I noticed first was how dark it was. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Some family members and I had decided to get an early start up to the top of one of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks. We’d hit the trail way before sunrise. Unable to glean even a sliver of the moon’s glow, we turned on our headlamps. We could see only a few steps ahead, but that was enough to keep us progressing toward our goal—even if we couldn’t yet see it.

Then, through no effort of our own, the day began to emerge. Gently at first, in tones of gentle gray—and as we ascended, a break in the forest canopy revealed the surrounding peaks painted a brilliant rosy red, brushed by morning light. It was breathtaking in its beauty—and cheering in its promise. We were on our way! Nothing could hold back the advancing day!

It occurred to me that this mountain dawn was like the dawning of spiritual light in consciousness—it often comes gently at first, but steadily and surely.

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