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Not ever again.
IT WAS ONEof her favorite hikes.
Avery paused, drinking in the vista before her. She loved this moment in the trail especially, when the stony path burst from the tree line and arrived in the midst of the kind of incredible beauty that could only have come from the hands of El Shaddai. The High Peaks were seemingly only a heartbeat away. Their stone-strewed slopes arced high over Avery’s head, patches of snow still clinging to the shadowed sides.
Avery took a long breath, enjoying the crackle of the cool, dry air in her lungs. Stretching her hands over her head, taking time to relax in the peace of the high country, she squinted into the late afternoon sun. There was Hallett, one famous peak with a sheer side and a squared-off top. Across from it, she could see the back of its less dramatic neighbor, graced with the uninspiring name of Flattop Mountain for reasons that were evident from its profile. And in the valley between them—the little rounded bowl—was the milky mass of Tyndall Glacier.
Avery pushed her hair behind her ear contemplatively as she pondered the glacier. It nestled there in its own glacially-carved valley—technically known as a “cirque” and looking like a small scoop out of the ridge. One of the last surviving members of the hundreds of glaciers that had once covered this area, carving the mountains from a granite as immovable as victory.
That was always fascinating to Avery. She gazed across the valley, trying to picture it buried beneath a creaking, groaning, and ever-expanding layer of ice. Had the land been undiscovered then, or had it been filled with people, people who were displaced by the rigors of the Ice Age? If so, had they realized the beauty that would one day rise from the pain of the process?
“Excuse me, would you take our picture?” Avery blinked from her reverie and turned to face the voice. A young woman stood behind her with a man—probably her husband. Awe of the landscape glowed on their faces.
“Sure!” Avery used the woman’s iPhone to snap several shots of the two posing in front of the backdrop. Certainly the scenery was breathtaking—much better than the canned backdrops she’d seen on some people’s vacation photos.
This was better if for no other reason than that it was real.
“Thank you so much!” The woman appeared delighted with the photos. She turned her phone screen toward her companion. “Look, Rob!”
The man grinned at Avery. “Thanks a lot! Want us to return the favor?”
“Thanks, but no need. I actually live around here.” Her soul would always give a leap of joy every time she said those words.
“Really? That must be cool.” The woman pulled a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and held her phone at arm’s length to take some more photos of the panorama.
For a moment, the vision of the hell Avery had escaped danced side-by-side in her mind with the mountains in front of her. “Yes. Better than cool.”
She gazed again at Hallett’s sharp-cut sides. She didn’t need a photo to remind her of the mountains.
They were etched within her heart.
The couple hurried onward, and Avery resumed her climb. She could hike briskly if occasion required, but today she simply wanted to move at a leisurely pace and take time to bask in the beauty around her. Take time to commune with El Shaddai, here in a place that bore overflowing evidence of His majesty. She needed to speak with him about something very specific today.
The trail for a time ran parallel with the mountains, separated by the fathomless Glacier Gorge in which a river rushed and chattered. Avery knew most of the water in that river was snowmelt, leftover winter flowing down from the High Peaks.
She couldn’t wait to arrive at her destination—The Loch. In her opinion, the lake that filled the valley like a bowl of blessing was one of the most gorgeous in the park—probably because it was one of the most pristine. She’d heard that Sky Pond, another mile beyond The Loch, was even more stunning. One day she’d have to hike up and check those rumors out for herself.
As always, her breath caught in her throat when The Loch opened before her, a sheet of glittering crystals beneath a cerulean sky. Ringed by craggy peaks, the lake twinkled in the late afternoon sun. The rays of light slanted lazily across the ridges, turning them a muted dove gray.
Avery shrugged out of her backpack and brushed a hand over her hair. She made her way to her favorite spot at The Loch—a twisted ponderosa pine growing from an especially rocky area. Seating herself on the warm rock, she gazed up at the gnarly tree. How did it manage to survive here, in the midst of the rocks?
“Would you be happier somewhere else?” she asked the tree softly. “Somewhere with more room for your roots?” She stretched her legs out comfortably and leaned back on her elbows, surveying the tranquility of The Loch. “But this view has to atone for much, am I right?”
A sudden fluttering overhead caught her attention. She looked up just in time to see a Clark’s nutcracker alight in the branches of the lone tree, chattering enthusiastically. Avery smiled in sheer delight. She loved seeing those birds, the size of small crows, their smooth bodies a soft pearl gray. In a moment the bird flew off in a great fanfare of flapping, flashing its black-and-white wing bars as it soared toward the dark green bristles of the trees across the lake.
Besides the occasional bird song, the murmur of the aspen leaves in the wind, and the gentle lap of the water on the rocky shore, there was no noise at all. It was just how Avery loved it—quiet, gentle, solitary.
Safe.
That feeling of absolute safety was what she craved today. She wasn’t accustomed to feeling fear in the mountains. But the last few days, she’d been haunted by an apprehension she couldn’t shake. The feeling of spiritual trouble—the meeting with Brian—the memories of Addisyn. It was as if all her buried past was reawakening—and the thought terrified her.
For all that she had suffered, all that she had sacrificed, all that she had left behind—she had received her reward. This was the place where her own spirit became as clear and pure as the wind that made the aspens dance. Where there were no limitations—no fears—no pains. Her sanctuary, to which she had crawled, wounded from the world’s mauling hands, and found healing and wholeness in the loving embrace of the Lord. The pangs of modern life had clawed and howled at her when she was in New York City, but now, in the country of El Shaddai, she was beyond their jurisdiction.
At least, she hoped she was.
But what if she was wrong? What if she wasn’t really bulletproof? What if the darkness of her past could somehow find a way to scale the mountains, invade her soul once more? Avery felt her spirit sicken at the thought. No matter what, she would never allow that kind of pain to drag her into its clutches again.
For a moment, she could see herself, a broken woman standing on the iron steps of a cheap city apartment, screaming in sorrow as Brian drove away with her sister and decimated her world. She shuddered and pressed her palms to the warm rock, reassuring herself.Relax, Avery. It’s okay. You’re all right now.
