The Top

The top.

I’ve never seen a mountain.

Wild, huh?

I’ve never been to Tennessee or out west. 

So I can only imagine. 

I wish some days I lived closer to the mountains. To be near something so large and to feel so small… to know that there is something so so much bigger beyond myself. What a great reminder that is.

I often imagine living or vacationing in the mountains watching the sun rise and hit the mountain tops. What a glorious image I paint in my mind.

Isn’t it funny though that I (in my mind’s eye) only look to the tops. 

That tip top gets the attention.

I like to sit on my patio at night and watch the cows or the birds in the backyard. (Thanks COVID for helping me realize that hobby.) 

And when I look at the trees in the distance - with the sun setting - it seems that only the far up tops have light left on them in the final moments of twilight. 

But what did those little limbs do to deserve to have that view? To have all that attention? To have our eyes fixed on them wayyy up there? To take in all the sunshine? What did they do that the trunk didn’t?

Anymore, it’s the trunk of the trees that I praise and seek. Down deep in the quiet motionless woods behind my home, not really getting to see much of the sun, the real earthy damp smell that you know if green had a scent, that would be it. It’s the trunks… mostly brown, mostly straight, mostly “boring” tree trunks that I want to praise. Because every day they support the little limbs; they support the tippy tops- send them forth to have light knowing full well they won’t see it. 

Am I getting too far? These are just trees after all…

The leaves that change colors in the fall, the ones everyone talks about how beautiful they are as the look up into the tops… and me, in my backyard, marveling at the way the top twigs dance in the light.. and maybe you as you watch how the snow and ice hang on to the top skinny ones… and it’s grandma’s Christmas angel at the top of the tree that marks tradition and where Great Uncle Joe’s eyes go when he stops by for a how-ya-been a week before Christmas.

The mountain base in the shadows supports the tippy top rocks in the light. And to reach the light, climbers may curse the base and feel relieved when they reach the top. But do they understand the importance of that base? How there would be no view without it?

Are we called to focus on the destination? 

Or are we called to focus on the journey?

Don’t dismiss the tree trunk or the mountain base. Strong, steady, supportive, silent, and so so very unwavering.

I believe in my deepest of hearts that we as a society are told to look at the top… eyes on what is glittering, and shoot for the stars. And it’s not all bad. But I’m not sure it’s all good. 

When we are so "tunnel-visioned" on that glittering and sparkling tip top of the world, we can fail to see the rocks that supported our climb. We forget to look at the trunks. Whether it’s the prior generations that laid the cornerstone of a house that our family called home for 101 years or whether it’s our spouse who did the dishes and folded the laundry alone in the quiet after everyone else was in bed because today was just a really tough day, we must focus and appreciate the foundations in our life…. Silently in our hearts or loudly in a mostly obscure blog post only a handful will ever read.

I believe that if we can find beauty in our history and our roots, if we can love the base for what it really is, if we can truly respect the foundation that was laid before us, I know we will only appreciate that Well Lit Top even more.

Always with love,

Samantha