Buzzing Rocks and Tingling Noses
"My nose is buzzing." - Joshua
Chaos. Confusion. Crying. At first that’s all it was.
The kids were ahead of me on a narrow snow patch. I was maneuvering through a tricky spot in the rocks to reach them. We were over 14,000 feet in the sky – almost to the summit of Mount Yale. Almost to the clouds, it seemed.
The clouds. All day I had one eye on the route in front of me and one eye on the bright fluffy clouds that were moving over us and stacking neatly behind us in a row. Like they were on a conveyor belt. Like they were getting ready to do something. But we didn’t think they would do it until later in the afternoon. We were certain that we had time, and anyway we couldn’t turn around now. We were so far along this difficult east ridge that at this point our best option was to continue on to the summit and go down an easier way.
Then we arrived at this spot. A cornice of snow, solid but narrow, stretched in front of us to a rocky clump that led up to another patch of snow. As the kids started across the cornice, I stopped to snap a picture of them climbing single file before the backdrop of a sea of peaks and a low, swirling cloud. It was beautiful.
I crossed over and started through the rocks to meet them and suddenly I could not make sense of what was happening.
Snow began to fall. Snow that was not snow but was hail and was not hail but was snow. Hard-packed balls of this snow-hail began to bounce off us and to fill the holes our boots and hands were making as we climbed.
The strange, swirling cloud closed in on us and pressed upon us. It was not beautiful anymore.
And the kids were yelling. Yelling things that I could not process.
“My ice axe is ringing! It’s buzzing!” someone cried.
“I feel weird! My body is tingling!”
“This rock is zinging!”
There was no thunder. No rain. No normal sign of a lightning storm so I could not believe that was what was happening. I just kept crawling towards the kids.
Joe screamed at me to throw my ice axe down. I felt it tingling in my hands and dropped it in the snow. He helped me tear my backpack off. Everyone was throwing down their axes and pulling off their bags and scooching down the steep slope.
“Something is buzzing!” Joe kept shouting. “Do you hear it?”
All I heard was a plane. A very strange sounding plane. But of course it was not a plane.
There was a smell. And a taste. An odd, metallic taste that reminded me of when I was a kid and would lick batteries. Kids do weird stuff . . .
We all crept as far down as we could go. Which was not far. We couldn’t go safely down anywhere because both sides of the ridge were very steep. So we crouched down into a ball, making sure that only our feet touched the ground. We placed our elbows on our knees and wrapped our hands around our heads. Lightning position.
And then it was clear to me what was happening. We were up in the sky on a skinny ridge and the air was full of the electrostatic energy of that evil cloud. That cloud was preparing to send down a bolt of lightning. And we were going to be fried to a crisp right there and be done – be dead – and there was absolutely nothing we could do about it.
I began to cry. I began to cry and to pray out loud that God would take that nasty, awful cloud away. That He would protect our pathetic little bundle of crying and cowering and keep us all safe.
We peered out from under our arms at each other and then at the sky. We could see a stark contrast between the swirling edge of the cloud and a bright expanse of blue. Slowly, for an eternity it seemed, we watched that swirling edge move over us and we looked hopefully at the blue that took its place.
Finally, we felt that it was safe to gather our things and keep going. We crawled over to our ice axes and tapped them cautiously. Caleb’s axe had what looked like iron shavings on the adze. The axe had become magnetized and must have picked up bits of iron from the rocks around us.
We strapped on our bags and we climbed the last stretch of rock and snow to the summit. After snapping a few pictures, we continued over the summit and began making our way down the other side of the mountain. All the while we kept an eye on the sky, but thankfully the clouds behaved for the rest of the day and we made it back to our car safely.
I didn’t notice until days later, but the small magnet on one of the straps of my bag was also covered in tiny shards of iron. They are still there. I cannot get them off and so now I have a reminder, whenever I hike, of this frightening day.
Not that I need a reminder. I will never forget the terror and helplessness I felt as we waited up there, wondering when and if a bolt of lightning would zap us. I will never forget our total, complete dependence on the mercy of God to protect us when we were so vulnerable. I will never forget my joy and relief as the edge of that cloud passed over us to reveal the bright blue sky.
And when I look at those shards on my magnet and remember that day, I am reminded that my life – that all of our lives – are so precious, so precarious, so fleeting. All of us are going to die and we don’t know when. Every day that we are allowed to live on this earth is a gift. We don’t have time to hold grudges. We don’t have time to put off the things we know we can do to be a blessing to others. We don’t have time to indulge in the temporary pleasures of this world that will damage our bodies and our souls. We don’t have time to worry and fret and complain.
That day on Mount Yale could have been our last. Today could be your last. Does that frighten you? Do you think about it – or try not to think about it? The Bible teaches that it is wise to number our days. To think about the brevity of our lives. The short wisp of breath that lasts from the time we are born to the time we die. During that time we are doing, thinking, and talking – and God sees and hears all of it. Every thought. Every word. Every action (Psalm 90; Psalm 139:1-4; James 4:14).
That should terrify every one of us. Because our thoughts, words, and actions are offensive to a perfect, holy, righteous God. Even the things we do that we think are “good” are repulsive to Him. How does He not destroy us at once? (Psalm 7:11; Isaiah 64:6).
Because He loves us. So much that He sent His Son, Jesus, to take on the wrath that we deserve. We could not possibly appease Him, but Jesus could because He is God in the flesh – He is perfect and sinless. His death, burial, and resurrection satisfied our debt (Romans 5:8; Colossians 2:11-14).
If you are a believer you skim through this part because you already know it. You know that you are ready to stand before God because you are clothed in the righteousness of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:21).
So what are you doing?? What are you doing today? How are you spending today as a representative of Jesus Christ? How are you treating your brothers and sisters who are part of your body – of Christ’s body? What are you thinking about today? What are your words like? Are they thankful thoughts, and grateful words? Are your hands, your mind, and your mouth busy building up others today? Or are you forgetting who you are in the mad rush of moments that will add up to become your life? Are you forgetting to number your days – that your days are numbered?
Christian, it matters how you live. God wants you to walk worthy of Him. Every day. While you still have time.
Take some time to meditate on the following passages as you consider how God wants you to spent the few moments you have. Take some time to look into the eyes of the people God has given you to love and think about how precious they are. Take some time to notice the things God has made for you to enjoy – the sun on your skin, the birds singing, the flower poking through the crack in the sidewalk, and yes, even the big billowing clouds and the lightning storm.
Ephesians 4:17-32
Philippians 1:27
Colossians 1:10
1 Thessalonians 2:12
Ephesians 5:15-21
To learn more about lightning, click here.
