This scene was a reward of my sons and mine on our weekend hike in the Himalayas. That mountain above the clouds is Kanchenjunga. We were rewarded also with other incredible things: leeches, a walk through a cloud, and, while sleeping out at night, the galaxy.
I left the hills to visit work in the plains. What a joy to be with brothers and sisters from other people groups! They were translating stories from the Scriptures into their own languages. The town, though—Nepalgunj (which rhymes with “grunge”)—might take getting used to. At least those who live here say they like it.
I went up to the roof this morning to take in this sight. I took S—— with me, who is almost 3. He was captivated by the large vehicle yard. “Wow! Look, daddy, trucks!” He even spotted the low-flying plane (can you?). “But son, what about the big and bright snow mountains?” Maybe this background is normal for him.
I grew up near Niagara Falls and always was in danger of finding the “wonder” commonplace because it was so near. What makes something wonderful? Is God less of a wonder because he would come near? Perhaps we take him for granted. But his presence makes the rest more wonderful.
I’m standing and pointing at those snow-caps. But S—— insists, “But trucks, daddy, my favorite!” and I come near to him. “Yes, son, those are one of my favorites, too.”
Took a long walk with great friends in Pokhara. By sunset we reached the lake. Our children played in the grass. We talked, ate two kilos of lichis, and bowed and thanked God together, just as it began to rain.