Mental therapy is experienced in a variety of ways. For me, it began one Friday afternoon with a six and a half hour drive. On that recent weekend, I met up with two of my close friends from college and then continued up the mountain to the vivid pastel blue skies and golden tree colors of the high country. Along the way, we commented how we were missing a fourth comrade. Many years ago, we formed this idea that despite the miles and the family commitments we would continue the tradition of meeting once a year; it occurred to me, a bond that many would like to have but few actually find.
During the weekend, we indulged our golfing habit and enjoyed the extra ball distance that the elevation provided us; the unapologetic, shank-o-potomous hackers. And, as if to enhance the experience, we navigated elk hazards on the fairway and were treated to a pair of moose strolling against the backdrop of the peaks behind them. Yet still, there was something else I was feeling; on the next morning, it became obvious to me.
The morning sun hadn’t cleared the top of the range but, from the deck I sat on with a hot cup of coffee in hand, I could clearly see the valley spread out below me. In the distance a raven called and then a dog’s lone bark echoed across. Even further, I could just make out the bugle of an elk. The air was still and had a crispness to it; in fact, the only consideration I had at the moment was sipping more coffee before it got cold. The contrast couldn’t have been greater; a normal day with its demands that always seemed rushed and hurried versus the sheer peace I was experiencing at that moment. We joke about all work and no play; we complain about being in a rut; we get discouraged about not finding what it is we’re looking for; but making this conscience effort to pushback and seek a change of viewpoint was … healing.
Typically, our little band of brothers is full of confidence and humor. But in this setting we lowered our defenses and listened to each other’s trouble and pain; mostly the pain of youth getting caught up in wrong choices. The type of stuff you don’t normally share except with, say, your therapist. We offered thoughts from our own experiences. We validated each other; acknowledging what we felt success as parents looks like with the importance of being consistent, identifying the lines not to cross, doing the right thing regardless of who you’re with and having a reference point of spiritual faith.
As the rays of sun broke the peaks, it was relatively easy to forget my personal troubles and society’s dysfunction. And from this view, it was easy to put a positive spin on things and be at peace, even if only for a short while. Remember how you felt after watching a Rocky’s movie? You couldn’t wait to start working out; or pound something. Same goes for that leadership conference; you were so pumped to put those ideas into practice. Problem was, you lost the momentum after a few weeks; when reality and distractions wore you back down. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It doesn’t have to be a temporary fix. Our Creator gave us the greatest gift of love the world will ever know. Faith isn’t tangible like the mountain’s majesty; but He designed both uniquely for us. And while the other stuff are the props and tools we get to use along the way to perhaps make us feel better for awhile, the reward for being faithful and obedient to the One who created us lasts for eternity.
The final signs of heat had left my coffee cup; it was time to make a move. Some decisions are just easier than others. But that’s okay; because even when I can’t see the view clearly, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.” (1 Peter 5)
And that, my friends, is comforting and therapeutic.
“Three-minute exposure; a snapshot of life’s imperfect harmony,” by Stew McAuley.
Encouraging your Christian Worldview.
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