Grace on the Road

“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire Cat in a tree. ‘Which road do I take?’ she asked.
‘Where do you want to go?’ was his response.
‘I don’t know,’ Alice answered.
‘Then,’ said the cat, ‘it doesn’t matter.’”

—Lewis Carroll

When we awoke this morning, we had no particular plan in mind. We didn’t really know where we wanted to go, what we wanted the day to hold. On this trip I have been frequently overwhelmed by possibilities. I have been impressed time and again that there is simply not enough time (nor do I have the mental bandwidth!) to experience all the things that sound appealing. If I choose to go one way, of necessity, at least for the present, all other options are lost to me. Saying “Yes!” to one path means that I must say “No” to dozens of others.

The making of choices does not end there. I must also choose what attitude to carry on whatever path I take. I can choose to live with regrets and longing for the paths I did not take. Or I can choose to focus on what is right before me, to experience and enjoy this path to the full. To embrace life fully wherever I happen to find myself.

And what am I to do when the path I choose doesn’t work out? I am learning to simply adjust and choose another path. This is made easier for me as I am learning that there is always another path, likely at least as delightful as I expected my original choice to be.

I began my morning with tea and Vigils (early morning prayer) on the small enclosed patio off our room at the Sonoma Creek Inn, a sweet little hidden gem on the outskirts of Sonoma. It was a bit chilly, so I didn’t stay out long, but it was delightful while it lasted.

We wanted to go to Mass at the Mission San Francisco Solano. When we arrived, however, the entire mission was locked tight. Ah, well. Time to readjust. So we spent a leisurely hour strolling around Sonoma Plaza. Aside from the French pastry shop where we bought fresh bread and hot chai, not much else was open at this early hour. Still, it was fun to just explore and windowshop. We’ve learned that these little towns with Spanish influence often have many quaint spots tucked away down narrow passages called “paseos”. Sonoma had a few as well.

It seemed just plain wrong to come to Sonoma and not enjoy a little wine tasting. But Sonoma County has over 425 wineries! Where would we even begin?!? We’d heard of an especially fun winery about 45 minutes north of Sonoma. That seemed like as good a place as any to start. So off we went…

…to Williamson Winery in Healdsburg where George gave us the most memorable wine tasting I’ve ever had. He paired each wine with a cheese and a gourmet condiment.

Why did God bless us with incredibly sensitive taste buds and food with such delicious flavors? Does He enjoy watching us enjoy the foods He provides? I hope so, because if He does, I surely brought joy to His heart today!

Ron at Rodney Strong Winery taught us a good bit about why California wines taste the way they do. Trent at Francis Ford Coppola Winery not only was knowledgeable about wines, but beer and bourbon as well.

The treat of the day was at Sonoma Portworks in Petaluma where Bill, the owner and winemaker, and his lovely wife Karen, gave us an in-depth education on port, brandy, sherry, and grappa. He even took us into the private work area so we could sample an experimental project he currently has in the works. We also learned that it is illegal to ship his port to a residential address in Kentucky. Too bad! Or maybe it’s a good thing since I won’t be tempted to buy more port!

We closed the day with wonderful Italian food on the patio of the historic Swiss Hotel back on the plaza in Sonoma. Of course, this meant that we didn’t eat at any of the other dozens of interesting restaurants we passed, much as their menus tempted me. And somehow I’m okay with that.

It’s been a lovely day, packed full of wonderful experiences. Even though we barely scratched the surface of Sonoma County, we couldn’t have done any more.

How will we fill the next 24 hours? How will I fill the rest of the life God has allotted to me? Maybe the Cheshire cat was right. Maybe it doesn’t matter…if I will just enjoy and be present to the path on which I find myself.

“You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, so…get on your way!”

—Dr. Seuss

One mountain seemed to loom over our entire day: Mount Shasta. We knew when we set out this morning after Mass at San Francisco Solano in Sonoma, CA that we would be driving past Mount Shasta. I don’t know what I expected. But I didn’t expect to see it from nearly a hundred miles away. John Muir in 1874 wrote, “When I first caught sight of it [Mount Shasta] over the braided folds of the Sacramento Valley, I was 50 miles away and afoot, alone and weary. Yet all my blood turned to wine, and I have not been weary since.” At first it was just a shadowy triangle on the horizon.

We drove through more wine country, and were a bit surprised to see vineyards growing at the foot of snow-capped mountains.

We even stopped at a winery in the shadow of Mount Shasta, Burnsini Vineyards, where the winemaker told us they got over a hundred days of heat over 100 degrees last year. In Northern California. Close to a mountain with seven named glaciers on its slopes!

Wine country gradually gave way to olive country. We stopped at The Olive Pit in Corning, CA and sampled so many locally grown olives and olive products that we didn’t need lunch. We bought more olives than we will consume on this trip. (They were delicious…and they will keep!) From the parking lot we could see Mount Shasta.

As we traveled down the road, the mountain seemed to travel with us. We passed areas where forest fires had charred the side of the hills. Mount Shasta was still there. We stopped in Dunsmuir to visit Hedge Creek Falls (which was not easy to find), and there was Mount Shasta. We paused for a break at a McDonald’s in Weed, CA where seagulls (?!?) were making their presence known and where we had a particularly good view of Mount Shasta.

We went up into the Cascade Mountains where Mount Shasta commanded one side of the road. The other side of the road was like terrain we had seen in New Mexico.

After coming down out of the mountains we passed through Butte Valley where the land is flat and intensively farmed. The mountains were now behind us, but we could still see Mount Shasta in the rear view mirror.

Tonight I am in my room at the Running Y Ranch Resort in Klamath Falls, Oregon, thinking about mountains. The local Shasta people have a legend about a global flood. (Almost every people group on the planet has such a story as part of its oral culture.) The Shasta say, “At last the water went down…Then the animal people came down from the top of Mount Shasta and made new homes for themselves. They scattered everywhere and became the ancestors of all the animal peoples of the earth.”

Nineteenth century American poet and novelist Joaquin Miller wrote, “As lone as God, and white as a winter moon, Mount Shasta starts up sudden and solitary from the heart of the great black forests of Northern California.”

Even President Theodore Roosevelt in 1908 said, “I consider the evening twilight on Mount Shasta one of the grandest sights I have ever witnessed.”

Mountains, it seems, make impressions. English artist and writer John Ruskin said, “Mountains are the beginning and the end of all natural scenery.” Mount Shasta seems so solid, so stable, so very…present. But it is not a tame mountain. It is a “potentially active” volcano which last erupted in 1786. People living in the shadow of such a mountain have a healthy respect for it while admiring its ever present beauty and benefiting from the fresh spring water from its glacial melt and the mineral rich volcanic soil at its base.

Yet this magnificent mountain is insignificant in comparison to the One who created it. This God is not tame either. But He refreshes us with living water and feeds us not only with the richness of the earth He created, but with His very Self.

The psalmist wrote, “Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the whole world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.” (Psalm 90:2) Truly, a mountain, eternal as it seems, is only the barest whisper of the everlasting glory of our God.

On our journey so far I have traveled across plains and rivers, across deserts and along coastlines, and through mountains and hills. Even more than Mount Shasta today, God has never been out of my sight. At times He hides Himself, as when Mount Shasta briefly is obscured by a much smaller but much closer hill or tree. And at times I may close my eyes and miss Him. But He is always there, always speaking, always calling me to Himself.

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1-2)

As I have thought back over today, the roads we have traveled, the things we have seen, the one word that has kept coming to mind is “delight”. It seems that wherever we turned today the Lord was showing us something to delight us, just for the fun of it. Just because He loves us. Psalm 16:11 says,

“You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

I have always tended to equate this verse with salvation and with life as it will be after death. But I believe there is another layer of truth here as well. Our loving Father gives us good gifts every moment. He means for us to delight in Him not only for all eternity, but now, in each moment of our lives. And it is a great help, a wonderful place to begin to delight, if we will just notice His gifts. I surely haven’t even begun to notice all of His gifts. But a few I noticed today were:

And the Word of God, in a translation that speaks to my heart as I prepare to retire for the evening in a bed with fresh, clean sheets.

Tonight I will just leave you with excerpts from Psalm 104 and encouragement to look for the small gifts the Father leaves in your path to bring you delight.

“Bless the Lord, O my soul!
O Lord my God, you are very great!…
The mountains rose, the valleys sank down
to the place that you appointed for them…
You make springs gush forth in the valleys;
they flow between the hills;…
From your lofty abode you water the mountains;
the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.
You cause the grass to grow for the livestock
and plants for man to cultivate,
that he may bring forth food from the earth
and wine to gladden the heart of man…
The trees of the Lord are watered abundantly,
the cedars of Lebanon that he planted.
In them the birds build their nests;
the stork has her home in the fir trees.
The high mountains are for the wild goats;
the rocks are a refuge for the rock badgers…
May the glory of the Lord endure forever;
may the Lord rejoice in his works…
I will sing to the Lord as long as I live;
I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.
May my meditation be pleasing to him,
for I rejoice in the Lord…
Bless the Lord, O my soul!
Praise the Lord!”