I recently found these words that I wrote my last semester of college. I am amazed at how they continue to ring true as different stages of life have come and gone.
I have touched a mountain. I have explored its terrain. I have eaten of its fruit. I have fallen. I have scraped my knees on the rocks. I have drunk of the cool mountain air that cleanses and refreshes. I have waded into the mountain streams with cool waters dancing around me. I have gotten lost. I have fallen at the feet of the one who saved me from death in the wilderness. I have fallen in love with the landscape. I have felt at home. I have come to know those who journey around me. I have tasted the bitterness that comes from being told that the road closes in a few miles. I have listened as I hear my name called from another mountain. I have come to the end of the path. And, as I turn to look back, I have seen the path that I once could not see; I have loved the landscape that I once did not love; I have touched lands that I once had not touched. And, I have loved it.
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