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I have seen the beauty – the unsurpassable beauty. It cannot be captured or bottled.

I have seen the physical beauties of this world as I feel like these images are God physically showing me his splendor. I have witnessed them from the summit of a mountain overlooking snow covered peaks, the crest of waves as they roll into shore, the bottom of a canyon in the rainforest, the sunrise over the water, the view into a luscious valley surrounded with waterfalls, and the stars overhead as they transcend the earth. But none of these have spoken to my heart as much as a whisper.
 
 

 
God whispers to me. I used to hope that it would be at church retreats or at these places of physical beauty that God would provide me with a powerful encounter with Him. But they never have been and may never.

The divine encounters I have been blessed with occur at times when I least expect. It is when I am completely humbled and remember that I am from dust and to dust I shall return. It is at these moments I am at the mountaintop. At these moments, I truly understand the majesty of our Father. I am brought to the point of weakness and have no other choice than to stand in awe.

The first time I prayed over a complete stranger is one mountaintop that always sticks out to me. I had no clue what I was doing. I clumsily and tiredly asked her if I could pray over her, and we bowed our heads together. At the end of the prayer, I walked away feeling spent with tears streaming down my face as the Lord whispered to me that is what I am made for. I am made to pour out His love as I am brought to points of weakness. I am not made for the mountaintops. Rather, I am made for the valleys.

In these valleys is where I am called to do His will. As I walk through the valleys, this is where the Lord"makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on high places" (Habakkuk 3:19). 

 
 

You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know. – Rene Daumal

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