Saturday, January 29, 2011

You know that little place in your heart.
That place that when you do something, you know you are suppossed to do in for the rest of your life.
Well that's how I feel when I look at mountains, when I look at pine trees that scrape the sky, when I take a dip in a cold mountain lake.
I know I'm supposed to be outdoors.
It is the constant in my life, the one interest that has always been there.
The first trip my parents took me on was a camping trip
I'm the girl who played with salamanders when I was little.
Who built stick forts in middle school
Who spent countless hours playing in the creek behind my neighborhood
The thing is though I've always picked stuff over the outdoors.
I quit rangers because of cheerleading
and so on and so on...
but I'm done
and I don't want to do that again, I don't want to forget the outdoors, I want to spend my life in it unless God is directing me otherwise
but is he...?
Why do the mountains give me this constant feeling of rightness?
Why do I sometimes feel completely unqualified to work in the outdoors?

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