I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills . . .
High in the Andes Mountains of Bolivia, I walked among the clouds, both physically and spiritually. In 1999, I traveled to the remote village of Colqueamaya, Bolivia, with a medical and construction team to live and work among God’s people, tending to their physical needs, helping build a church, and sharing God’s love with them.
One morning, I awoke just a whisper before dawn to hike to the bathroom, a primitive “structure” a few hundred yards from our sleeping quarters. As I walked to the east, an amazing sunrise began to color the skies before my eyes. Strokes of soft, muted colors slowly merged into a brilliant wash of light and color over the Altiplano. Framed by the majestic Andes Mountains, I watched as the Master painted the dawn of a new day.
From distant slopes, the soulful notes of a solitary pan flute rose gently to greet the dawn. An awestruck spectator at the creation of a new day, I stopped and worshipped in this most holy moment. My prayers joined the musical meditations of the anonymous flutist. We were two people who never met, yet whose souls praised their Creator together high in the Andes. Like Peter on the mountaintop with Christ, I did not want to experience to end or to leave the mountain – either physically or spiritually.
Of course, I had to return to the real world and real work, but the spiritual memories of that quiet, perfect moment at dawn remain with me still. When I need to reconnect with my Creator, I recall my mountaintop experience when God made His presence and promise real to the unseen flutiest and me in a most holy moment.