BEHIND THE SONGS
“Soon I Come”
SOON I COME, BUT WAIT I MUST. ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST.
In Olympic, there is a wonderful hike called Hurricane Ridge. Hike perhaps is too strong a word, because the entire ‘trail’ is paved. But its climbs are long and the altitude starts to affect your lungs and walking it on the third day of hiking made me only appreciative of the paved terrain.
The beauty of this trail is that it’s along a ridge and for the entire journey, you’re bookended by the breathtaking slopes of the mountain ranges. You’re high enough to feel like you’re eye-to-eye with the snow blanketing the tips of the other ridges, although they are miles away. It felt as picturesque as the iconic scene of Maria von Trapp in the living hills of the Austrian Alps.
LIFE UNBURDENED
BUT BOUND BY FALL.
“For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.”
A sincere prayer for death is surprising. I wasn’t sure if it was even a prayer Christians should make. It was still on my mind while exploring the Pacific Northwest. In some ways, I had gotten a better handle on living with physical suffering. In other ways, I felt like I was back at the beginning. The first two days of this trip were marred by two panic attacks, something that had become as debilitating as the pain that brought them on.
I SEE NO CHANCE,
JUST SOLE CREATOR.
The hike was one of the most serene I've been on from start to finish. And for that morning only, my pain was tolerable enough that I was almost able to forget about it for the duration of the hike. Afterwards I realized the gift of that mental clarity. The loop trail undulated with the terrain, with pockets of wildflowers to walk through and creeks and streams dancing around me. The sky felt particularly blue after days of a smokey haze covering the entire PNW area. The sun’s warmth was the perfect balm to the crisp mountain air.
A pleasant silence covered the hike, and as I tend to do, I began writing in my mind. The first phrase jumped to the forefront of my mind, “Soon I come but wait I must.” It captured the essence of my prayers the month prior and I built upon it as we traversed around the peak, Rainier standing steady in my sightline.
TO RAISE THE MOUNTAINS, CASCADE THE STREAMS.
I realized I had never seen a true mountain. When I arrived in the Pacific Northwest, I had already hiked in a handful of National Parks and thought I couldn’t be surprised. In hindsight, I’ve learned my lesson that God’s creative handiwork will never cease to be surprising.
Upon landing in Seattle in August of 2023, I expected to be able to catch a glimpse of Mount Rainier, but due to wildfire smoke, the visibility in the city was terrible. Our first stop on the hiking trip was Olympic National Park, which led me to temporarily believe that those mountains there were true mountains. After all, it was the first time I saw snow capping a summit. Surely that was the mark of a true mountain.
NOW REDEEMED, NOT YET RESTORED. ANTICIPATE MY FAITH’S REWARD.
Even though we had yet to conquer our hardest trail of the trip, I was in pain. I will never claim to have the endurance of a mountain goat or a triathlete, but this trip particularly emphasized my physical weakness. In the month leading up to it, preparation was rendered impossible due to a debilitating health flare up. It left me essentially out of commission for weeks. I refused to remove myself from the trip, knowing the pain would be particularly challenging but the promise of seeing mountains a worthy reward.
Mentally and spiritually, I thought I had grown in carrying the weight of suffering since my spring trip to the Great Smokey Mountains. The month of being wiped out by physical ailments had proven that wrong. Over many dark nights, it was the first time I joined in with the theme of Paul’s prayer in Philippians.
I CLING TO HIM,
HE KNOWS IT ALL.
As we continued our trek south, I realized that Hurricane Ridge should more accurately be categorized as foothills. After driving for a few hours, we pulled off at a lookout point and got our first view of Mount Rainier. It is an image that will never leave my memory. To say it loomed above the horizon is an understatement. We were still miles and miles off, at least an hour’s drive away, and it still imposed itself in the sky.
The first morning after we arrived, we hiked a loop trail that was still far away from the base of the mountain. The trail circled around a peak, earning the name Naches Peak Loop. For half of the journey, Rainier remained in view, redefining my idea of a true snow-covered mountain. Even as we walked along the peak of Naches, the summit of Rainier was unimaginably higher, its distance from us highlighting its magnitude.
AND RUN TO HIM FOR HE IS ABLE.
By the time we arrived back at our car, I had the first verse and chorus of what would come to be my second song. I hurriedly jotted it down in my sketchbook so nothing would be lost. And the next day we hiked a 6 mile trail on Mount Rainier itself, giving me a new understanding of the words ‘magnitude’ and ‘magnificent.’
After coming home, I put the words I had written to a melody and drew upon the inspiration of the mountain to finish writing the remaining two verses. It again was a process that helped in carrying my thoughts and feelings. And it served as a snapshot of the progression of my understanding God’s character and His timing. In the shadow of Rainier, my pain was put in its proper place. For the One who raised the mountains knew the very struggle I felt as I traversed them. And as He walked with me in the moments on the mountains, I began to grasp how He walks with us in the looming summits of life.
