Kancamagas Pass

The sun rises over the White Mountains and peeks into our cottage window, saying, “Rise and Shine.” While meditating in the coolness of the morning (this isn’t Kansas), the Spirit brings Malachi 4:2 to mind, “Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings.” I reflect back to a year ago in the White Mountains, and I know that God has granted healing since that time. I am learning that by trusting Him completely, there is peace. Luke 1:78,79 in the NIV says, “Because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living darkness . . . to guide our feet into the path of peace.” Peace.

A favorite place in the White Mountains is the Kancamagas Highway. The 34.5 mile scenic drive has no restaurants, gas stations, or motels. It does have waterfalls, picnic areas,  many curves, hiking trails, and pullovers to stop and take in the beauty. It is prettiest in fall, but its summer beauty isn’t lacking.

A year ago, on an evening drive we stopped at Kancamagas Pass. The sun was beginning to slide down the Western sky, and it felt like we were meant to be in this place, at this time to marvel at the beauty of God’s creation. At 2,855 feet, a light jacket feels good even in summer. We pulled out camp chairs and sat in the shelter to watch the spectacular scenario. We were not alone. Others joined us in hushed, reverential silence.

This year, we returned. We were alone at the Pass, but as the sun began its descent behind the mountains, more people wandered in. Laurence kept saying, “O beautiful sunset” (instead of sunrise like the song says ). A husband told us that sunset on the Pass was what his wife wanted for her birthday. Once again, we were awed by God’s creation as the sun slid down the sky: the sun resting on the mountains, then partially below, lower, lower, until only a sliver of bright orange remained, and it disappeared. We sang, “Happy birthday, dear Joni,” with whom we’d shared sunset at Kancamugus Pass, folded up our camp chairs, and drove the curves back to Lincoln, NH.

“O beautiful sunrise or sunset,” when Christ shall come again in majesty . . .” Have a blessed Sunday.

Berniece

P.s. It amazes us that there is a congregation worshipping in NH.