I was disappointed to see a single car in the parking lot when I pulled up, but glad to see that person return to their car and leave as I got out and thus I headed up the trail alone. I'm not sure why I felt the desire to be alone, but soon questioned the wisdom of that as I realized nobody knew where to find me. What if a mountain lion jumped me? Okay, so maybe I was being silly. I've never even seen one. What were the chances of running into one now?
Undaunted, I made my way up a steep slope, out of the canyon, and finally perched on a big rock overlooking the valley. I still had plenty of time to kill and so I sat and pondered. I sent a picture text to my wife as evidence of where I was (in case of lion attack). I read some of the names written on the top of the rock. Out of curiosity, I looked up a couple names on Facebook and found pictures of those people who had been at this location before me. Finally I put my phone away and settled in to enjoy the view.
The morning was grey and cold. The warmth generated by my short hike soon left me as the chill wind chased my jacket zipper up to my neck. This was a lonely place. Made all the more lonely by the weather and the view of the city; throngs of people miles below, going about their lives.
Maybe it was the recent months of unemployment. Maybe it was the medical scare of last week that had my second son in the hospital. Something beside the wind stirred me.
All people go through trials and my trials are pretty mild compared to some. Still, I felt lonely. I felt lonely, not from the lack of humans near me, but lonely on another, deeper, spiritual level.
I prayed. "O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?"
Okay, maybe that's not exactly what I said, but it is how I felt inside. So, where was my faith? Where was that calm assurance I've had all year that I would get through this trial? I have never doubted I would find a job. The only question was how long I would need to look. I knew I still had a solid foundation of faith. This was no crisis. It was more of a knock on the door, just to make sure He was still there.
That's when I saw it. Down below me on the hillside, maybe a quarter of a mile away. A flash of red on the edge of a thicket of scrub oak. "It's probably nothing." I tried to convince myself. "Merely some garbage or ribbon marking a study area or another boundary of some sort. There are no trails going down that way. I should ignore it and hike out the way I hiked in." Yet, I couldn't get it out of my head.
What if it was a person in distress? Or a bag full of money? What if it was something amazing? Whatever it was sure was a bright and shiny red to be able to see it at that distance. It must be something interesting I decided. So I made my way down the slope, fighting through scrub oak, sliding down loose rock and dirt. Slowly, I wound my way down to the...whatever it was.
At last I got close enough to make it out. It was a deflated Mylar balloon, not unlike the one I bought for my son last week while he was in the hospital.
On the balloon was a single word. Love.
I know what you're thinking. It was a message from above. Or maybe you're thinking it was just a strange coincidence. It doesn't really matter though. Either way, it made me feel better. Just a little. Just enough.
Thank you.
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