letters from barabbas

Get back to nature. 

My freshman year was a really tumultuous time in my life, but looking back on it now, I can point to several specific instances that really meant a great deal to my development. And a lot of them happened outside: I think God gave us nature to serve as a reminder of His beauty, His constancy, and His power.
If you're feeling mixed up or bored or almost dead, go camping. Take your Bible and a journal and wait for God to show you His heart. Then, in two years' time, go back and read what you wrote about, and see what God has done in you. You won't be disappointed!
This was me two years ago, in a letter to a friend after a wild semester:

Standing on the edge of a really high cliff in all of mid-morning's glory, on top of one of the highest mountains (hill, really...) in Alabama and surveying the valley below with its lakes and silent highways and cow pastures (or were they ant pastures?), all grey and blue and brown without the leaves, watching the cloud we had slept in rolling away to the west, blue sky so brilliant and sun so bright I could hardly stand to keep my eyes open: that was an empowering experience. The wind was so cool, so refreshing, so reassuring. From the same point the valley at night was like a mirror image of the sky above it, heavenly stars above and man stars below, and tiny me balanced precariously in the middle, now with the wind less assuring and more intimidating, chilly and pushy, but the beauty was too much to resist.
Standing in the gulf of mexico two weeks ago, examining the jellyfish that washed ashore with mixed horror and pity, watching the light flirt with the waves in gorgeous flitting and flying, breathing the salty air and absorbing God's nature.
Skipping over the river on stepping stones, playing by the waterfall, sliding down the muddy banks, standing thigh deep in the frigid water, laying back on the boulders in the middle like iguanas and just talking with some new friends.
These were my sudden joys, my flashes of silver light from a fish swimming just below the surface of the purest mountain lake, my reminders that life is fundamentally good and beautiful and worth holding on to.


[My friend Mizue took this picture of Ben at Mount Cheehaw this fall. I find it beautiful on several different levels, although the scan job doesn't quite do it justice. Mizue is going back to Japan this week, and she gave all of us pictures that she had taken while she was here. We were all astounded to see what an insightful photographer she is. We're gonna miss you and Ayaka, Mizue!]