The Mountains are Calling Me
|In the Altai Mountains, Bayan-Ulgii, Mongolia|
The mountains. There is a felt heartache as I look at pictures of them. I long to be in the mountains again. Why though, I was asking myself. I am a city girl who failed her physical fitness test because she lacked the stamina to complete the 2.4km run. But the mountains, they stir in me a sense of quiet, almost-sad joy and a feeling of connectedness. In the mountains, I find that I rather be alone or not talk. There is a sense of theophany perhaps.
|Shepherding the yaks|
In my second time in Mongolia, I hiked through the forest of trees and settled on a plateau. There are no photos of the mountains I saw because I had intentionally left my handphone behind. I sat there, alone, for maybe a hour. Just singing hymns, gazing out at the mountains and letting my heart be filled. So so thankful that my eyes have seen these Lord. This is also a form of worship, just being there with His bees and wildflowers, and spying the cows meandering across the plains. O my God, my heart longs for this sight again.
The next best thing was spying Ganaa (pronounced Kanak) hanging around the fringe of where the action was. After I went down, I went to find him and he showed me a horse with her foal amongst the marshes. It was absolutely beautiful, that moment, when I allowed myself to be led by him and followed his instructions to not break the tranquility. Then, he was still new to FCS and didn't really fit in, and I was very very happy that I had that moment with him.
|I camped outside this ger for some time because the children inside were peeping out and coming in and out|
But I feel assured that I can say, I don't feel that gnawing need to get away, which was what I felt before leaving for exchange to Hong Kong. I have grown, and it is the work of the Spirit. The mountains speak of You, Father and El Shaddai.