By Charlotte Hauman on Wednesday, 06 November 2013
Category: Charlotte Hauman

Mountain-top God

Anyone that knows me will know that I absolutely love being outside and that being in or around mountains is without a doubt where I am in my happy place. So imagine my excitement and anticipation for our visit to the small town of Incahuasi high in the Andes mountains of Peru with Oom Hendrik. This stop on the journey was one of the main reasons why I decided to do my particular journey to South America in the first place and my expectation was well-met - the first day I wanted to jump out of my skin with excitement. Sleeping in the attic-room of a house with narrow stairs (just like childhood-Heidi), boiling water in an old kettle on a gas stove (just like Bainskloof), having quiet time overlooking the mountains with cold air rushing through my lungs, experiencing the thinness of the air due to our high altitude, seeing the women in their traditional attire with bright colours and big hats, driving a few hours to a remote village to hand out little Bibles - I could well imagine heaven looking something like this.

One morning I walked the ten minutes up to my "usual" place to read Bible and write journal and just spend time with God in His creation. I had a wonderful time of worshiping God all by myself with the expanse of the mountains around me and the town below me. Before long however I was completely frozen due to the icy wind that cut through my 4 layers of clothes. With a sense of adventure and also to get some blood pumping through my veins again, I decided to ascend to the next hilltop to see what lies on the other side. Panting I reached the top just to see what seemed to be a place where something was burnt (and of course a beautiful view). Having heard Oom Hendrik share about the opposition they have received from the locals in previous years since they were suspected of worshiping the evil mountain spirits, I was a bit apprehensive about sitting next to what could well have been some sort of altar. Knowing however that I have seen no-one else on the mountain that morning and I was a bit off the beaten track, I sat down with my Bible.

I was just about to finish before heading down to the house for breakfast when a bright orange and red dress appeared on the horizon. An old woman was approaching. We were opposites. Her traditional clothing a radical contrast to my hoodie, jeans and Salomons. Her teeth were broken and missing in a weirdly symmetrical way while my dentures were done by a hi-tech dentist in Cape Town. She was on a one-hour-walk on the way home after visiting her children while I would be taking a fourteen-plus-hour-plane to my family in a few weeks.

 My Spanish is limited and hers is an interesting mix of Quechua and Spanish but we start talking. The initial apprehension in her eyes makes me wonder if she thinks I am worshiping some or other spirit but before long she says something of Jesus Christ and I breathe a sigh of relief. I explain that I'm spending time with God, asking her if she also has a Bible. Yes, she smiles skewly.  I ask if I can pray for her, if she has pain that I can pray for. Yes, she sighs heavily as she points to her heart. Corazon. I pray for her on the hilltop with the cold wind tugging at our sides and I am so aware of the Spirit, feeling an outward manifestation on my skin and my heart just being so touched by God. While praying for her it was as if God's love for her flowed through my own heart, speaking to my own heart. Afterwards we continue talking and I share a Word with her but I see her eyes are full of tears. I ask if she's okay, why does she look sad? Sanado. Sanado. She points to her chest. Healed! I am a bit astounded and not sure if I understand correctly. Really? Yes! Glory to God! Yes glory to God! We continue talking but we are both touched by the experience.  Without words we both just smile, marvelling in such a thing as a shared spirit. I ask for a photo with her before we go our seperate ways, and smiling into the morning light we capture our moment with our mountain-top God.

I found myself crying all the way down the mountain. Something of God's beauty completely overwhelmed me that morning on the mountain. Something of His majesty spoke to my heart through worship while shortly afterwards His incredible love touched my heart through a God-appointment in a place where time is measured by the sun. 

That is my God.

Creating layer upon layer of blue mountains, stretching into the distance under a covering of mist. 

Speaking to and touching two women that are in many ways complete opposites.

So seemingly contrasting. So incredibly beautiful.

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