The four Alaska JV communities (Bethel, Anchorage, Juneau
and Sitka) had our fall retreat a few weekends ago just outside of Anchorage
near Wasilla. Prior to going to the retreat site, my housemate Whitney and I
spent an extra day in the city of her first JV year, Anchorage. She was very
excited to show me her old stomping grounds and even took me on a hike up a
mountain in the Chugach Range. Being from North East Ohio, I was not very
accustomed to the beauty and massiveness of mountains. In fact, I wouldn’t be
surprised if by the end of the trip my housemates (particularly Whitney) were
sick of me staring in awe of the scenery often times producing an audible “wow”
at the wonders of God’s creation.
Anyways, Wiwi (Whitney) and I were blessed enough to spend a
few hours the day before retreat climbing up one of the Chugach and enjoying
the views. She had mentioned before how she too saw God in nature and going
from this gorgeous, spectacular-site-around-every-corner Anchorage to the
subtle-beauty of Bethel was a challenge. I can definitely relate.
I think one of the things I have been struggling with most
in Bethel is not having an always blatantly present reminder of God’s grace. I
miss the changing of the leaves as autumn approaches, the cool breeze pushing
that smell of fall I have always been so fond of. The view of the pond in my
backyard surrounded by a whirlwind of color. Long walks down the streets of
University Heights taking in God’s glory with every crunch of a leaf. No, we
don’t have mountains, but Ohio is overflowing with beauty and goodness and that
ever-present assurance that God is there and God is good. But in a way, I think
it’s a blessing to be having this struggle. For one thing it is teaching me not
to take home for granted, but it is also helping me strengthen my faith and
have to search for where I see god each day. My daily examine is not as easy as
talking about the walk around campus I took with a friend or the blossoming
trees when spring begins to take over Carroll. It’s a lot easier to find God in
nature’s beauty if it is readily available. Perhaps it is in this struggle to
always see God in the not-so-obvious beauty of Bethel that we will find our
strengths and grow steadfast in our faith as we work harder for it.
God
is in Bethel.
This I have come to know for sure. He’s there in the few light snowfalls we‘ve
had, beginning to blanket the town and prepare us for the long winter
ahead. He’s in the biggest night
sky I have ever seen, filled with more sparkling stars than I ever imagined
existed. In the faces of the people I pass on my walks to and from work as we
exchange that “why-is-it-so-cold” look. He’s there in the questions my teens
ask during youth group that seem so simple, yet really stop and make you think.
In the families and friends we serve at Supper Club on those cold Friday
nights. In the sparkling tundra after the rain has frozen over. Yes, God is
very present here. You just have to dig a little deeper.
On the way down from our hike, almost at the very bottom,
Whitney and I noticed what appeared to be a suggested trail for getting up the
mountain. We couldn’t find one at the beginning so we just made our own path,
digging into the dirt and snow and tundra hoping to find good stable holds. I
think it’s appropriate we took the road less traveled. In a way it summarizes
our journey of finding God’s presence in Bethel. Maybe we won’t find that clear
path to God we’re longing for or maybe we’ll find it in our last few weeks here
this summer. But instead of waiting to stumble across it, we might find even
more incredible views along the way, pushing ourselves up the mountain and
closer to our Creator.
(Completely cheesy and hokey, I know. I guess the scenery
and beauty of Anchorage tugged a little at my sentimental side. But let’s be
honest, I’m normally fairly cheesy to begin with.)
