God's Bench

At the top of the mountain we found a bench that I'm pretty sure God set there for us.  It was made of stone with a smooth lovely top.  Jim thought maybe it was Aslan's table but it was too small to be that. Nope, God just set it there for sitting.  It seemed a holy place, almost a sacrament to sit there.

We talked again about those pills I'd suggested to Jim, like what if you could package views and put them in a capsule to take later. If I could hold all this beauty somewhere to take out when I wanted it. The whole all of it, the sagey smells, the wind in my face, the view, the sounds of quiet with distant chain saws and target practice, but mostly just quiet to the point where you are hearing non-noise in your ears.  If we could put all this in a capsule and keep a bottle of them on our dresser. But we can't.

This view, I will forget and can only hold in the time when I stop to look.  And this God bench, He put it here to remind me to sit, to take the sacrament, here in this time.  These sacred moments I must hold them while I have them.  There is no place for containing, no capsule, just this.