Mountain Top Easter

In the dark I heard ragged breathing on my left. On the right I heard the cascading sound of loose rocks falling. All around me it was dark but on the horizon it was a pale lavender. The sun was making its celestial dance of rising and ribbons of people were wrapped around Madonna Mountain on their way to Easter Sunrise Service.

As the faithful trekked up the mountain, there was a solemn feeling to the upward journey. Some people were thinking about families still at home nestled in their warm beds. Some people were feeling the cold wind and sharp air biting thru the layers of clothes they were wearing. Some people were thinking of a battered, bruised body in a tomb that in moments was going to be resurrected in glory and majesty. 

People would pause on the rocky way, catch their breath and catch an eyeful of the beautiful kaleidoscope of color when a town comes to life with the dawn of a new day. We saw the last twinkling lights of the night street lamps, the milky white wispy clouds rolling away into the emerald green hills and a dark grey train slithering along the tracks as it made its way to the bigger cities. A hawk circled our heads and seemed to bow his head at the cross that was lit up on the top of the mountain.

Reaching the plateau at the top we are greeted by warm smiles, even warmer handshakes and refreshing water to ease our dry throats. Reflected in faces was the awe of being present on what seemed to be the top of the world on Easter Sunday. Music pulled us into sitting down and tapping our feet to the soul thumping drum beat. Warmed up with music and opening prayer, the pastor from a local Christian church delivers his message. His words have a ripple effect of laughter, affirming head nods to hands raised in righteous praise. I feel connected to this community sitting among rocks and brush with cold coastal morning air weaving thru us. Our voices rising in song so close to the heavens it seems, warm the heart and soul. After the last Amen, we pick our way thru boulders, rocks and dirt to the highest point where the Cross has been anchored. Feet firmly planted on granite, I think of all my blessings in family and being alive to witness this sunrise at this moment. 

Walking down the mountain, pebbles spraying out from my steps, wild rosemary and sage scenting the air, I thank God for life and dying for me. He is an awesome God.