Moab

As I write I am sitting at the Denver airport waiting for my next leg of my trip home sipping a Caribou iced dark chocolate mocha. I am tired but reflective of a good time in Moab. I never counted how many men were there but I believe it was 16 or 17 from Pennsylvania, Colorado, Idaho, Ohio, West Virginia, Arizona, Kansas, Michigan, Nebraska and California. Our stories intersected for five days in the high desert of Moab.

God spoke. I went into this time with some uncertainty, the old lies of "You don't belong" nipped a bit at the edges of my heart a day or two before leaving. There were many times I sat and respectfully listened; many of these men have lived lives I can't imagine. Stories of guns and ammunition, hunting, sports, time spent in the military. These are things I know little of and I would be less than honest if I dtdn't admit to a bit of tension in me as I silently battled those old lies. Lies they are though, and I felt included in this eclectic gathering of men.

He also spoke in the conversations I had, learning of job loss, broken marriages, children returning to God, a man standing up to family members to protect his wife. I could go on with those stories, it was a deep privilege to be trusted with the holiness of Abba's movement in their lives.

Amidst all the talking and laughing (plenty of it) there were times of sitting in companionable silence with some very special men. All too often we are not comfortable with silence, especially when with others. We want to fill the space with words and feel a tension without them. God blessed me with a few men who can sit easily in the absence of spoken words. This moved me deeply.

Abba also spoke through the sheer beauty of Moab. I knew I needed this, time to savor beauty, but I had no idea until I entered Arches National Park for the first time on Thursday, the depth of that need. My eyes filled with tears and my heart warmed. It was as if I could breath for the first time in months. I won't try to describe the beauty of these places, Arches and Canyonlands National Parks.

I went on this trip hoping for a word, something either new or a reminder of Abba's intimate love for me. What I found was a lavish, wild beauty that was not intimate. The beauty called deeply to me, asking me to allow Him to enlarge me out of my smallness. These places dwarf you as you stand amidst the red rock spires, arches and canyons. I am stumbling for the proper words without finding the right ones. What I saw and heard was Abba saying again, "I am".