Your Own Mountain

I sit in the back seat surrounded by friends I love and enjoy. Drifting in and out of conversation I feel no pressure to say a thing. Looking out the window I think about the One who has given me this life. The invitation extended this very night was offered because He loved me enough to want me included. The drive leads up into the hills. Roads twist and turn, winding ever higher; with every curve I feel more anticipation. Oh to meet You again Lord, face to face. A song of old permeates my thoughts, as fresh today as when first sung…”You will bring them in and plant them on Your own mountain—the place, O Lord, reserved for Your own dwelling, the sanctuary, O Lord, that Your hands have established.”*

* Exo 15:17


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