The world is so big from the top of Mount Washington that it can't begin to be more than partially represented on a photograph. The best a picture can do is to tell a small piece of the story. And believe me even the best photography is just a hint of the wonder we experienced today on that mountain.
I feel that way sometimes when I'm writing about my experiences with God. I'm a good writer... but all I can do is to offer a glimpse - which brings me to the other slice of this day: This morning Rebekah and I found the Robert Frost Home, nestled in a very quiet corner of the White Mountains. The place features a meandering walk through the woods with a few well-loved Frost poems on display.
Frost's signal achievement - to my mind - was his ability to convey real sentiment and profound truth in just a few lines. I was inspired. Just maybe, in this Twenty-first Century of sound-bite and fast-forward, I can deliver enough of a taste of what I'm experiencing to keep people meandering through the garden of my prose.
Keep listening in. Be patient. Just maybe I'll deliver.