I have to see the crater...

I have to go again.

After flying 2,300 miles, driving 135 miles and walking maybe a mile or two I got to see a really cool cloud. Oh sure, it was covering the most active volcano in the history of the United States but it was still a cloud. It was only shrouding the actual crater of the volcano. The destoyed north side of the mountain was clearly visable. But I did not come here to see a cloud. I came here to see a crater.

When Mt. St. Helen's erupted on May 18, 1980 it was a bright and sunny Sunday in Chicago. My wife and I were at church. I was the youth pastor. On the front of the program that was handed out on that day was a picture of the nearly perfect Mt. St. Helen's in southwest Washington. How odd. We did not know it until we got home but while we were at worship, holding our little program in our hands, that very mountain was exploding. It lost its entire north face. It blew down trees like twigs. It pushed Spirit Lake so far up the side of a mountain that when the water returned it brought all of the trees and soil with it. It killed the entire lake and everything in it. Over fifty people died. The devastation is still overtly evident today, 26 years later. Oh, and that was also my wife's twenty second birthday. What a candle.

And so today we walked through the "blast zone" and found out exactly why it is called that. I think of words like "amazing," "awesome," "powerful," and even "unbelievable." None of those words explain what it looks like. As President Jimmy Carter said, "the moon looks like a golf course compared to this." I am certain it looks much better today than it did when he said that. But still ...

So today the cloud lifted. It is not supposed to return over the next few days. Therefore, I am going back. I do not know what it is. Something draws you to that place. Especially for those who remember the eruption in their own personal history. I plan on returning to the "Johnston Observatory" and striking out on one of the trails into the valley that touches the base of the volcano. I will leave my precious asthmatic bride at the visitor's center for maybe an hour. Maybe two. I cannot hike to the very rim of the crater because I have neither the permit nor the energy. But I want to get close enough to KNOW what the raw power of God feels like in a very small way.

I read an advertisement recently for a children's ministry program. Their motto is, "Experience God at full force." How dumb. Nobody could live through that. Nobody could survive a nano-second experiencing God at full force. My God is the God who can blow the top and side off of a mountain with less than a sneeze. But I do want to get close to that mountain. As close as I can. I think I am looking for my own personal "burning bush." I know that there are no bushes out there. Only ash and pumice. But God and I have been having this situation lately. I keep forgetting about Him having me in the crater of His Holy Hand. I have been getting distracted by perceived threats and the saber rattling of the enemy. The mindless chatter of silly voices that don't know how to keep quiet rings in my ears all too often.

So I am going back to the mountain. Monday. Tuesday at the latest. I am going to stand as close to it as I can get. And I ama going to remember the God who made it ... and the God who took it out. And I am going to see what happens when He sneezes. I am going to let my bush of doubt and fear burn to the ground. I am going to ask Him to blow the top and sides out of my mountain of insecurities and questions about the future. I am going to expose the tall trees of "self" and trust Him to break them like insignificant toothpicks. I will allow Him to turn my jeans and t-shirt to sack cloth and ashes if He so desires.

I want my cloud to lift. I want to see the crater. And I want to remember who my God is.