1000

1000.

That's appoximately how many feet deep Tallulah Falls Gorge is from top to bottom.  Considered one of the seven natural wonders of Georgia, the base reveals raging waters, spraying mists and glistening rocks.  And we had the privilege of seeing it all yesterday as we trekked our way up to the North Georgia Mountains.

Following a sharp descent of hundreds of stairs, we found ourselves at the bottom of the gorge.  In front of us was Hurricane Falls, the largest boasting waterfall in the park.  And all around us, beauty stamped with the design of its Maker.

 

Then it was time to turn around and go back up.  Time to ascend this hill to the top of the gorge.  There was more.  Much more for us to see and experience during our little field trip this fall.

 

1000. 

That's how many total steps one must be willing to climb in order to embrace the majesty of Tallulah Falls.

My girls and I were willing.  As a matter a fact, we braved each and every one of those intimidating steps.  With no whining.  No complaining.  No belly-aching.  Just a quick stop every now and then to rest on a bench as we made our way up.  And surprisingly, my five year old led us the whole way.

 

As we neared the top of the steepest and longest incline of stairs, my youngest asked,
"Which way do we go, Mommy?  To the left or the right?"

Map in hand, I stopped and showed my girls the direction in which we needed to go.  Our adventure continued as we navigated the rim trails by following the way set out before us. 

A couple of times we were tempted to veer off the path and head in other directions.  But if we had, we might not have made it to our destination--where we really needed to go.  We might have missed out on the awe-inspiring views surrounding us.

"Stop at the crossroads and look around; ask for the ancient paths.

Where is the good way?

Then walk in it and find a resting place for yourselves."

Jeremiah 6:16 (CEB)

 

 

From the highest of heights and the varying overlook points, we witnessed the wonder of five different cascading waterfalls.  They were powerful.  And constant.  And unpredictable.

1000.

 

That's the minimum number of things I am grateful for in my life right now and from this trip to Tallulah Falls. 

 

We came.  We saw.  We climbed.

 

And going from one extreme to the next in the midst of the gorge, prompted this response:



 

 

Worship. 

 

"Where can I go from your Spirit? 

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there."

Ps. 139:7-8 (NIV)

 

1000.



That's the number of extraordinary ways our Creator shows Himself, His love, His Word, and His presence in the midst of our ordinary days.  Let's keep our eyes open and be amazed.

 

Would I Have Turned Around?

Their bodies were covered.  Consumed with an infectious, oftentimes, incurable disease.  Skin so ravaged by leprosy, the mere sight caused anyone daring to come near to halt in their tracks.

Their hearts were broken.  Shattered by years of isolation, years of embarrassment, years of pain.  Lives spent shunned by their condition, desperate for someone, anyone, to come near.

Then He, the One they'd only heard rumors of, made His way to their village.  Closer and closer He drew near.  

Brimming with hope, the ten of them got up.  Up from their assigned places outside the village.  Though they kept their distance, they were compelled to meet Him.  

"Unclean!  Unclean!" should have been their proclamation.  But against all mandates, they called out to the only One who might not avoid them.  The only One who might see them.  Not for the label they'd been given, but for whom they might become.  Maybe, just maybe, He would help.

"Jesus, Master, have pity on us!"

He spoke just one command:  "Go, show yourselves to the priests."

Their instructions:  Go to the one person who has authority to declare you clean, if you think you have been healed. (Leviticus 14)

The problem:  They still had leprosy.  But, He told them to go.  So they did.  Filled with an unfamiliar, yet rapidly increasing faith, they went. 

Could this possibly be the answer to a multitude of prayers they'd prayed before?  Could this be the day God would hear from heaven?

*(Insert miracle)*

On the way, they were cleansed.  Completely.  Totally.  Healed.  All ten of them.

Inexpressible joy must have erupted from their shattered hearts.  Shouts of excitement had to burst forth from their lips.  Relief must have laced their troubled minds. 

Did they truly understand what this would mean in their lives?  No longer ignored.  No longer avoided.  No longer alienated.  No longer alone. 

Only one of the ten turned around and came back to Jesus.  Filled with the loudest praise, he could not contain his overwhelming gratitude.  Kneeling at His feet, he thanked Him.  Thanked the One who saw him and healed him.

The Miracle Worker's reply: "Were not ten healed?  Where are the other nine?" (Luke 17:11-19)

I nod in agreement.  Where were those ungrateful lepers?  After all they'd suffered, and all they'd seen, why didn't they all run back shouting, leaping and dancing?

It doesn't make sense.  That is until I put myself in their shoes--er, sandals.

Certainly there have been times I've prayed, but not praised. 
Times I've asked, but made no effort to acknowledge. 
Times I've inquired, but failed to extol.

I've stepped out in faith, walked in obedience, but neglected to stop and take notice when He intervened on my behalf.  Forgive me, Lord.  I don't want to be like the nine lepers.

During this season of thankfulness, I'm asking for a renewed, revived heart.  A heart consumed with gratitude for He is and what He has done.  A heart which continually honors the One who gives me great reason to stop and turn around, time and time again.

Moving Forward

"I prefer to fall back, not spring forward." 

This was my Facebook status last spring on the eve of Daylight Savings Time.

At the time, it was exactly how I felt.  Not just about physically losing an hour or gaining an hour in my day.  But more about the condition of my heart and mind. 

Ten months ago, I wished to stay where I was in my life.  Falling back to what was familiar and comfortable made me feel safe and secure.  And like most people, I happen to enjoy safe and secure.

Instead, I sensed God was about to move.  He was about to lift the cloud above our family's encampment.  Just like with the Israelites, this would be the signal to move forward.  Following Him.  To a new destination.  (See Numbers 9:15-23)

At the beginning of this month, Daylight Savings Time came again.  Graciously, we accepted an extra hour of sleep as we turned the clocks back in time before retiring for bed.

But in this season in my life, I struggled with the thought of going backwards.  I found myself wishing to press on.  To continue making forward progress.  Not to put this object in motion to rest.

Watching Lion King last weekend, reminded me of a conversation between two of my favorite Disney characters, Pumba and Timon: 

Pumba: It's like my buddy Timon always says: You got to put your behind in your past.
Timon: No, no, sit down before you hurt yourself. You gotta put your past *behind you*.

Either way, that's sound advice.  Even if it comes from an animated meerkat and warthog. :)

In the New Testament, the apostle Paul says it like this,

"But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

Paul knew he was in a chase, not just a race.  He was constantly moving forward when it might have been easier to fall back. 

At church we often sing a song entitled, "Moving Forward" by Israel Houghton.  Here are some of the lyrics:

"Not going back, moving ahead 

Here to declare to You, my past is over in You.

All things are made new, Surrendered my life to Christ 

I'm moving, moving forward. 

You make all things new.  Yes, You make all things new.  And I will follow You forward."

Each day as I surrender my life to Christ, I want to be found faithful.  Faithful to heed the lessons I need to learn.  Faithful to obey.

The alternative, as my wise friend once said, may be "another lap around the desert".

Forgive me for not caring to waste my days wandering in circles.  

As I understand it, there's only one way to get to the promised land in our lives.  One step at a time.  Moving forward.

"There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind."
~ C. S. Lewis

Favorite Fall Findings

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  At least it is for me anyway.  I love fall.  Without a doubt, it's always been my favorite season and this year I have found a few new reasons to embrace it even more.

For starters, I love the change in weather.  I welcome the chance to say, "Good-bye" to long, sweltering summer days and "Hello" to cool autumn mornings and perfectly pleasant afternoons.

I love seeing plump, orange pumpkins--whole and round, yet also carved and lit with candles.  My eyes are drawn to the vibrant, yellow chrysanthemums and petite, purple pansies I find all around me.  And there's something about a jolly, straw scarecrow that just makes me smile.

I love watching fall sports, too.  I love to cheer for my daughter and her softball team.  I love being a spectator at an occasional youth or high school football game.  And what kind of Georgia girl would I be if I don't root for the Dawgs as they go to battle each week on the gridiron?

I love the fact that for the most part, bugs have left us alone, weeds are virtually non-existent and our allergies are finally at rest.  We find we truly enjoy being outside this time of year.

I love planning and celebrating my oldest daughter's birthday each October and seeing both of my girls enter the land of make-believe as they dress up as their favorite character on the last day of the month.

I love the abundance of sweet treats (particularly the chocolate ones) I find lining the shelves at every store and supermarket.

And this fall, I've discovered a new love for apple cider, roasted pumpkin seeds, and my most recent favorite find--pumpkin bread.  Why have I avoided these delicious fall treats in the past?  All I can say is my taste buds certainly thank me now.  

Mostly though, I've found how much I love the change in the environment around me.  I love how bright and colorful nature suddenly becomes this time of year.  No more plain green.  In its place, we behold radiant reds, beautiful oranges, stunning yellows, and bright purples painted across the leaves of the trees.

Why is this?  Why do the leaves change?  The answer the girls and I read this past week in our science lesson was incredibly enlightening to me.

Here is my very basic, very elementary synopsis:

Because the days are shorter in the fall, less sunlight shines down on the trees.  This is a signal to the trees to stop producing food for the leaves.  Because the leaves aren't receiving any more food, they begin to die.  The chlorophyll (the stuff that makes the leaves green) ceases to exist and the leaves' true colors shine forth.  Soon they will fall off the tree and leave the branch empty--ready and waiting for new life to bloom forth in the spring. 

But none of this can take place unless the leaf dies.  No beautiful, bright glorious colors for all to enjoy.  No new life in the future.

"I assure you, most solemnly I tell you, Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains [just one grain; it never becomes more but lives] by itself alone. But if it dies, it produces many others and yields a rich harvest."  John 12:24 (Amplified)

I, too, want to be a display of God's beautiful and wonderful handiwork.  I want His true colors to shine forth from my life.  Therefore, I must do what is necessary.  I must die to self, daily.  As hard as it is, I am promised a rich harvest if I do so.

Armed with this new understanding, I love fall all the more.  God is thematic.  He weaves His life and His sacrifice into creation all around us.  We just have to open our eyes to find it. 

With each new season comes the hope of change.  The previous season no longer exists.   Something different is right around the corner, waiting for us to find it.  From time to time, I confess I kind-of like different. Who knows?  Finding different just might become my new favorite thing.