Changes everything

The San Gabriel Mountains from Vantage Pointe in La Habra Heights, California.

I've known it for a long time, but I couldn't put it into words.

Mountains on the horizon changes everything.

Ever since I moved to Southern California, the mountain skyline has inspired a sense of awe in me. You may have read in this very blog how my first clear view of the San Gabriel Mountains ended with me in my car driving as close to them as I could. I can't resist them. It's inside me. I'm under their grip and I don't know if anything could ever change that.

The view of mountains on the horizon changes everything. I used to have a long drive home from work; again, this very blog's first post described it. I'd be driving in the hills for almost an hour, and then when I crested one singular hill in Anaheim Hills, the entire mountain range would come into view, and then...then things changed. No matter what album was playing, what train of thought I was on, what song I was composing in my head, it was interrupted by what my eyes saw, During snowy season, this was even magnified (if such a thing is fathomable).

That view changes everything. And one day, I put it all together and realized WHY the draw was so strong. Why I was like one magnet and the mountains were the other magnet, and I was pulled towards them by the laws of physics.

We often are caught up in our own small worlds, with blankets of security that are really nothing at all. We live in this false reality for so long that we truly lose touch with the big picture, with the REAL. When I see the spectacular snow-capped San Gabriel Mountains on the horizon, looming impossibly larger than anything I know, it reminds me that there is something bigger in the world than me. Those mountains dwarf me. My human mind struggles to even perceive their grandeur. I've even stood on the very peak of Baldy almost 10 times, and once on the peak Istill expect to see human outlines on the endless horizon (flat as a pancake), and when I see someone only a mile away and a few thousand feet lower altitude on the same trail I just hiked, I barely can distinguish them from the rocky, sandy, barren landscape. I just can't put the pieces together.

When we see that horizon, we realize there is something bigger than ourselves. There is something that exists on our planet that exceeds our understanding. There is something that dwarfs the minute details of our lives. There is something that can bring us to our knees and stir something deep within us even during our coldest and darkest of days. We were MEANT for more. This can't be all there is. I see that skyline and something inside me, deeper than I can know, is stirred up. My immediate physical reaction is "GO TO THE MOUNTAINS" but what I find there is not just physical beauty. Yes, my senses are overwhelmed: the smell is fresh, the sights are a spectacle, the sounds are peaceful and the touch is...real. But it all points to a larger thing.

I cannot live this life on my own. I am incomplete as an individual. I cannot accomplish great things alone. I see the mountains and I immediately realize my need for a Savior. Without a supernatural, extraordinary interaction, I fail. But in all of God's goodness, He provides those momentary signs and reminders. For me, that is the mountains. My body struggles and strains to conquer just one of those peaks, using a trail that was forged by earlier humans and is clearly the most accessible, easiest way to do a thing such as this. Let me never forget that I am powerless against such a force. That the very Thing that carved each ridge and wrinkle into the earth's surface is the same Thing that died a painful death on a cross so that I could have life, and life abundantly. The Thing that lets me live with freedom and without fear. The Thing that became the only human to overcome the grave, that thing that causes we humans the greatest pain that we know.

Oh Thing, oh Thing named Jesus the unchanging creator God, I need you and I cannot live without You. I thank you for your constant, looming, unforgettable reminders of Your love and power. I cannot help but worship You.

Preparation from the Past

The plaza at Moody Bible Institute from my room window on the 18th floor.

I've often heard it said that everything that happens to us happens for a reason. That it's preparing us for something down the road. I have put faith in that very thing, though the answer was not clear.

Thank God for the nights we have unknowingly been prepared for.

October 2005, Moody Bible Institute, Chicago, IL: The annual Mr. Moody competition draws nigh. An opportunity for each brother and sister floor (divided into floors because of the urban nature of our 19-story dormitory) to put on a small-scale production in hopes of one representative being named "Mr. Moody." This year the theme was "make your own country." We had a rather colorful resident on our floor from Korea named John Oh. We decided our country would be Johnopia. I became involved when we heard about phase 2 of the production: Sing your national anthem. Being that I am a one-man band of sorts, I was perfect for this job. John told me he wanted it to be a rap song, so I came up with a basic beat and we ran with it. John created a rap. Then we created an elaborate dance to the song.

Things were shaping up to be quite top-notch. The only slight problem was that it was scheduled for a Friday night, and every week on Friday night I would travel north to Wrigleyville and help out at our church's youth group. So I asked John a few weeks before the spectacle: "Do you need me to be IN the production? Just say the word and I will tell them I can't be there on that Friday. But if you don't need me, I'll still go to youth group and wish you all the best." His response: "I think we'll be ok without you there."

Fast forward 3 days. John frantically approaches me: "Matt! Can you still be in the production?" No, John. I told them I would be at youth group.

In the coming days, I wrestled with what I should do. We had big plans for youth group that night too, and without me the night would not be the same. So I committed to going to the youth group instead of the glorious Mr. Moody competition. I knew I'd miss out on some fun, but I knew that someday, this would come back to me in a positive way. So I went to youth group that night. It turned out to be a great night.

When I returned back to the school that evening, I heard about how the night went. The national anthem was a smash hit; all the people there in the plaza were singing along. Everything was pointing to our win. But then, in the very last stage of the performance, there was a technical problem with the amp and the guitar that were being used (the very thing that I would have been there for), and it killed the crowd's excitement and we ended up losing the competition. A bummer, for sure.

October 2011, Orange County, California: Opeth, one of my top 3 favorite bands was coming to town. Their new album was my favorite in a long time. The set list was released and it may as well have been my own personal list of favorite songs from them. We checked my work schedule and I was free. I had the money to spare. Let's do this.

Fast-forward to the week of the show. Somehow, the schedule they kept at the office showed that I worked a day that I didn't have on my calendar. It was Friday.

I looked at my list of co-worker's phone numbers, and called all of those who weren't scheduled to work that day. None of them could fill my spot. I had to miss one thing or the other.

So I was in a familiar spot. I had disappointed my roommate who bought the tickets, but promised him I would still give him the price of the ticket. Still, he wanted to go to this show with me, and I had failed. So I had to make a decision, but I knew which one was right. It was clear. I'd been through this before. I may miss out on some fun, but God knows my every move, and I cannot hide my choice from him.

So through my roommate's temptings and attempts to sway me to go to the show, I still knew what I should do. I was prepared for this moment. I had missed out on something before, but in the end, that event was a disappointment anyway.

So I went to work, and it was a good night. Things flowed smoothly, I filled the role that only I could, and my conscience was clean. I had a feeling that would happen.

Nostalgia Wins

I'm re-watching 24/7 Penguins-Capitals for the zillionth time, but near the end of the third episode there are shots of Pittsburgh in the winter. Hilly city blocks, across the river at the houses atop Mt. Washington. My heart instantly longs for it. At the age of 25, the majority of my life was still lived in Pennsylvania. It is impossible to ever remove me from that world completely. I begin to realize...the day I made the choice to move to California, I had no idea what the ramifications would be. Aside from all the experiences and culture I've gained, I will now be forever torn between two homes. And really, how can Pittsburgh ever compare with Southern California? It's the place the whole world longs to be. Perfect weather, money, beaches, huge mountains, desert. But for me, it has everything but seasons and family. And how do you replace those two things? So then I start to think...how can Orange County ever really compare to Pittsburgh? The history, the rustic beauty, the decay of weather, and have I mentioned...seasons! Seasons: a biblical analogy for the roller coaster of our lives, and the inspiration for so much of my music. My favorite sports teams. A familiarity with the people, culture, and geography that I have never felt in California. Try as I might, I will never fully fit in either place. And my siblings' children are growing up thousands of miles away. I may be the uncle that is more of a stranger to them.

Despite it all, I can never place doubt in God's calling on my life. Countless affirmations of His work in me and around me here in my new home force me to have comfort. I could never discount all that I've seen on the West Coast as a mistake. The evidence is too much. This was God's will for me. I followed. I've been rewarded. But earth is not my home. I cannot be at home or at perfect rest in this place. I cannot find a quiet corner of the planet where there is perfection. I must move beyond this fallen, depraved world and live in His presence; there I will be home. At rest. No more longing for distant places. A fulfillment of the days of the life that He has given me. A home. Rest. Eternity.

Ecclesiastes

Beautiful California,

you cannot escape the wind and rain.

To everything there is a season

And the same fate comes to all.