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We had an adventure. That much is true, and the full story will be shared as soon as the emotional packs are emptied and the thoughts are composed.

We made new friends, and but one of those stories is shared at this moment. The young friend pictured here who I will simply refer to as “The Sherpa” was one of our two guides on this mountain trek. His story inspired me, and his love for our Savior is evident.

As #1 son and I hoofed our way home yesterday, a flood of tunes library memories were conjured up as the music kept me alert and winging my way back home. As the Mark Schultz tune “When Mountains Fall” played on, my thoughts were on the Sherpa. It could almost be as if this song were written just for him.

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You stand on the edge
You followed the call
No turning back you are risking it all
He whispers your name
In a moment of truth
The rocks fall around you
The ground starts to move
You step out on faith
It’s all that you know
You jump into darkness and hold onto hope

When the mountains fall
When the rivers rise
Security crumbles before your eyes
The one thing you know
In faith you’ll find
Something to stand on or you will be taught to fly

So dream your dreams
And live your life
Knowing there’s more than to merely survive
Don’t give up, don’t give in
Fight through the rain and lean into the wind
‘Til you come to the edge of all that you know
Run right through the dark knowing you’re not alone

When you walk through the fire
It will not consume you
Though the water will rise
It won’t overtake you
Though the mountains will fall
Oh, still I am with you
I’ve called you by name
And I will not leave you
I’m learning to trust you
I’m learning to fly
I’m learning to trust you
I’m learning to fly

Thanks are in order, to both the Sherpa (and the Sherpette). They showed us Ptarmigan (a Ute Indian name for a bird), and we are learning to fly.

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There has been much to do about “The Cloud” lately, that netherworld where files are stored and data sent and retrieved.   It’s a wonderful thing (and technically, I presume this blog resides there), but there’s another cloud I’m appreciative of:

We watched them runnin’ down the aisles,
Children’s time, Sunday morning.
The preacher asked them who they loved,
They all smiled and started pointing to their mom,
Their dad,
The teacher from their kindergarten class;
And each and every one
Had just come from

A cloud of witnesses
That would see them through the years
Cheer them with a smile
And pray them through the tears
A cloud of witnesses that would see them to the end,
And shower them with love that never ends
A cloud of witnesses.

They stuck together through the years,
The best of friends faith could foster
So when they found out one of them
Had heard the news
He’d lost his father,
They ran to him
And prayed and put their hands upon his head,

And slowly one by one
They’d all become

A cloud of witnesses
As they sent above a prayer
They took a hold of hands and
circled ’round a friend
A cloud of witnesses with a faith just like a rock,

They helped him give his father back to God
As a cloud of witnesses

So when it comes the time
That heaven calls
They’ll come running to see the ones who’ve gone before,
And made the journey home to find waiting for them at the finish line,
Cheerin happily they will run
and they will see

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A could of witnesses
Lined up on a street of gold
As they run the final mile.
That leads them to a throne.
And through the cloud of witnesses
They see God upon the throne.
And as they fall into His arms,
They know they’re home in
A cloud of witnesses,
Surrounded by a could of witnesses

Music and Lyrics by Mark Schultz

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