If Almost Heaven Could Talk

If these mountains could talk, they would speak wisdom, like an 80-year-old sage. They would instruct us not to build tunnels or go around them for the sake of convenience; they would recommend we endure the pain and accept the climb. They would laugh at instant gratification and quick results. They would tell us that the more we climb, the stronger we become. If these mountains could talk, they would tell us what it takes to survive. They would teach us how to grind. They would show us how to become mountaineers.

If these valleys could talk, they would offer words of encouragement, like a caring mother. Their soothing voices would calm us after we had climbed down from a mountain and remind us to rest before climbing again. They would utter neither negative talk nor judgment, because the valleys understand the principle of an echo; what you speak out will always come back. If these valleys could talk, they would gently remind us to help those who are gearing up for the mountains that we have already climbed.

If these streams could talk, their words would be refreshing, like a friend who truly understands. They would talk about what it’s like to not rest and not know where things will end up. Their words would make us realize the attractiveness of transparency and vulnerability within conversations. If these streams could talk, it would teach us the benefits of being honest and would tell us how to accept that we’re seldom in control.

If these coal mines could talk, their words would be heeded like those of a  respected father. They would teach us about pride and hard work. There would be no talk on how to become rich but more emphasis on why we should sacrifice for others. If these coal mines could talk, they would inform us that everyone digs, but very few find what they are looking for in this life. They would teach us to realize that darkness lurks within all of us, but there is One above who can give light.

If these country roads could talk, they would unite and sing like a Heavenly choir. Their songs would cry out for those that left and rejoice for the ones that stayed. They would teach that the highway to Hell is broad and wide, but the road to Heaven is short and narrow. If these country roads could talk, they would tell us that life is old here, older than the trees. They would beg us to listen to the mountains, the valleys, the coal mines, and the streams.

Take me home.

written by: mark bland