Go to the Mountain

As children do, I wanted to know where my mom was in the house so that I could be near. Even into my adolescence, I preferred to be in the same room. If I heard the whirring of the old Singer sewing machine, I headed for the back bedroom. Paul Harvey’s voice on the radio lured me to the living room. When I smelled chicken frying or homemade popcorn popping on the stove, I followed the aroma. If it was silent in the house, a rare moment, I found her taking a nap on the couch, eyeglasses in her hand. I felt most at home near my mom and no matter what happened during the day, I could rest in her presence. We didn’t always have a conversation but closeness to her grounded me. When mom was at work, twelve-hour nursing shifts, I waited for her return. Home was never the same when she was absent. 

I’d go to the mountain to find her.

Jesus would sometimes seek out a deserted place in order to pray or catch his breath. I understand why people followed him, even up on a mountain. And they remained there for days experiencing healing, hearing truth and sharing bread.

Jesus still does that – heals us, speaks truth in our hearts and satiates our hunger. No one who seeks him on the mountain is turned away. Just as I sought closeness to my mother, I would have traversed a mountain to find Jesus. 

In this season of waiting, we not only wait for Jesus to be born again in our hearts, but Jesus patiently waits for us to seek him. And it’s never hard to discover where he is. Just listen for the stirring in your heart, the breathtaking divine presence in the silence of snow falling, a moment of connection with others, even those neglected or suffering in our midst. Listen, too, for the intermittent hum of the sewing machine in the back room or the sound of gentle breathing that comes with a well-earned nap. Jesus awaits and draws us close. He is truly God with us!