“God’s love is meteoric,
his loyalty astronomic,
His purpose titanic,
his verdicts oceanic.
Yet in his largeness
nothing gets lost;
Not a man, not a mouse,
slips through the cracks.”
~Psalm 36:5-6 (MSG)
Last weekend, I made a day trip out to Gloss Mountain State Park, and the verses above came to mind on the drive there. There was just something about getting out into the flat Oklahoma landscape with nothing but plains and skies for miles that reminded me of God’s vastness – His depths, His wideness, His height.
The Gloss Mountains are a series of mesas over a twenty-five mile stretch off of US-412 in northwestern Oklahoma, and about two weeks ago, I got it into my head that I wanted to climb one, even though I heard it was a difficult climb and there were rattlesnakes. I also heard the view was breathtaking, so I studied up on how to react if I stumbled across a rattlesnake, or worse, was bitten by a rattlesnake, and went anyway.
I was not prepared for how steep the climb was, nor did I expect the path to narrow about a third of the way up, with grass and growth crowding every step of the way. I was already struggling to breathe and my legs were already heavy, and I had the thought that if a rattlesnake did spring out at me from the grass, my heart rate would surely help the venom spread quickly. I thought about turning around and heading back down, honestly.
But I had come for the view from the top, you know? A third of the way up wasn’t good enough. So I kept climbing. Eyes down the entire time, of course, to watch for rattlesnakes, but I kept climbing. In the last twenty feet or so, the path widened, but it was all rock the rest of the way – hard to get a foothold, hard to lift my legs, but I finally made it.
And it was beautiful. I could see for miles in every direction, and again, I was aware of God’s vastness. On my way back down (which wasn’t any easier, by the way, because my legs had gone from lead to jelly) and on the drive home and all this past week, I’ve been thinking about how, in the middle of God’s vastness, I’m on a steep and narrow path.
Not always, because there are seasons, but right now. I feel heavy, and at times, I can’t breathe under the weight of it all. If there was any room – any room at all – to sit down… If there was any room for someone to come alongside… but there’s not. It’s too narrow, and I have to keep climbing, because even though I can’t begin to imagine the view that’s waiting for me at the top, I know it will be worth it.