Master in the Mountains

(I asked Cory Jackson, one of our graduates, to write about Master in the Mountains - an "end of summer" hiking trip we take every year to honor our graduates. Here are his thoughts)

I stood, rather infirmly, teetering between life and death on a rock that has most likely watched more than one person plunge to their death and hadn’t seemed to take a particular interest or liking to me. I cautiously leaned out over the valley separating Charlie’s Bunion (our particular death wish) and the next potential Fear Factor stunt. I stared at the ground and the distance between us and realized why “The Wizzled One” needed a new transmission and perhaps a tire rotation.

However, I knew that I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, especially back on the old reliable, sweltering bus with Joe Crash recounting his exploits in his appealing, singsong voice. I’ll even go so far as to say, I’d have picked that particular foot abnormality over Galaga or Mrs. Pac-man back at the cabin. There’s something about being surrounded by God’s creation that is very conducive to the thought process.

First, I thought about Luke because hearing him announce his bunion was probably the funniest series of events this side of the Mason Dixon Line. Then I wondered why I like to pepper my writing with Civil War era references. I thought about how much I bawled when I had to do Luke’s put-ups and then, remembered that I was to be put through that same ceremony in a few hours.

Even when I opened my eyes to observe the amazing worship experience going on around me that night in the cabin, I couldn’t see Cousin John for all the raised hands and sobs could be heard in the pauses between songs. Praise echoed off the walls loud and sincere, as close to the supreme and absolute surrender God deserves, as I have ever been involved in. There is no doubt the Holy Spirit was among us.

There was an energy left in the room as our worship time ended and put-ups were about to begin. Put-ups were a mix of remembering laughs we’d had together, life-impacting moments and wishes for the future. I could tell you exactly what everyone said about each other, I could tell you how many people cried, how much I didn’t want it to end, but it was truly something you had to be there for.

The next morning we packed up and loaded onto the bus like any other trip, but we knew it wasn’t just another return trip home. This was the last one, in a lot of ways, for a lot of people and one that all of us will remember.

CoJack