I Turn My Eyes to the Mountains

When you are in Boulder, Montana, it's impossible not to turn your eyes to the mountains. They are everywhere. Some look more like rocky hills with tall pines and lots of grass. Others are definitely more mountainous, with large rock outcroppings. Some lift above the tree line, baring granite faces. Others rise so high they are still covered with snow, even in mid-July.

The Psalmist writes about the mountains. I lift up my eyes to the mountains, he says, and I know that feeling. Every time I step out the hotel room or the mine office I look up. I wonder if people who live here all the time experience the same feeling, the same desire to look to the hills.

I don't know why I do it; do I expect to see something I've never seen? Do I expect something to come rolling down the mountain? Do I expect a dramatic change in scenery, a sudden snow squall or intense lightning storm? No, I think I look up because of an inbred desire to do so. We look up. We turn our eyes to heaven. We lift up our eyes to the mountains. When the world drags us down and we hang our head in sorrow and shame there's a force in us that causes us to look up.

There is a certain peace and serenity in these mountains, in all mountains, that just isn't found elsewhere. I've stood in the warm waves of the Atlantic and the gold-tipped waves of the Pacific, and not felt that peace. I've stood in the cold waters of the Mediterranean Sea, the sea Paul sailed on and was shipwrecked in, and still haven't felt that peace. I've wandered through forests and prairies and meandered my way through big cities, to no avail. Peace, peace, they cry, but there is no peace.

I look to the hills, the Psalmist says, and where does my help come from, where does my peace come from? My help comes from the One who made these mountains, who spoke them into being, who separated them from the waters and shoved them up into the sky.

My help doesn't come from the mountains, from gods of the hills or some mysterious force mountains seem to possess. No, my help and peace comes from the Maker of Mountains, from the Head of the Hills, from the Ruler of the Rocks.

He will watch over me day and night, protecting and providing. He never sleeps; He never slumbers. He will watch over me always, today and tomorrow and forever. As long as these mountains stand and these rocks hold fast, and even when they crumble to the dust from which they came, He will watch over me.

Maybe the pull to look up is more than the desire to enjoy the beauty of the mountains. Maybe the pull to look up comes from God. Lift up your heads, don't walk looking despondently down, the King of Glory has come in, in flesh and blood and bone.

Our help is in His name.

In the Mines in Montana

I'm blogging from the small town of Boulder, Montana. This is my third or fourth year here, but my wife's family has been coming here every year for a lot longer. Our purpose for our visit is pretty clear; to get better, to get healing from some of the ailments we suffer. Some of us struggle with arthritis, some with fibromyalgia. I have a long-standing battle with psorisasis.

The cure is pretty simple; we spend several hours a day in the shaft of a healing mine, breathing in radon that is produced by the breakdown of uranium. The mine is named the Free Enterprise Health Mine and it has been open for a long time.

I know, you're freaking about the radon, but don't. There is tons of sustantive evidence that the radon gas scare is just that, a scare. The amounts of radon we would need to inhale to actually harm us is immense; we would have to live in a mine for several decades.

The owner of the mine is Pat Lewis; her father was the original owner. The history of healing that goes on here is amazing, cataloged in large books in the Mine office. Even more amazing is the story those who are here have to tell, people who have seen the healing take place, people who also come back year after year.

We've got about 14 hours of treatment in and the psoriasis on my knees is gone. My ears have healed and the scales have flaked off my elbows. I can see that all of us are moving better, sleeping better, getting better.

It just reminds me of the amazing healing properties God has built into our bodies, and how we often forget about them, getting lost in our world of pills and drugs.