God of the Mountains, Maker of Majesty

Crested Butte, Colorado. Just the name fills the soul with fresh air and awe. This tucked-away treasure isn’t like the bustling ski resorts that make headlines. It’s quieter. Holier, even. Not easy to get to, but maybe that’s what makes it so special — it’s still raw with God’s fingerprints.

Carl and I are here with our children, Terrell and Amelia, who’ve been bringing their crew here for years. Now that their kids are college students, you’d think they’d trade in snow boots for sandy beaches, but no. They still return to these mountains with wide eyes and open hearts.

And I get it. This place is soul food. The trout streams sing. The hiking trails tell stories. The snow markers — those 8-foot poles with red tips — stand tall, reminding us just how much snow God can dump on this land. And how He faithfully makes a way through it.

We’ve hiked, we’ve laughed, and we’ve stood still more than once, jaws dropped at the beauty that surrounds us. “The mountains melt like wax before the Lord, before the Lord of all the earth” (Psalm 97:5). That’s what it feels like — like the world slows down and bows low to the One who spoke it into being.

Even coming from Austin — green and gorgeous in its own right –there’s something about mountain majesty that makes you stop in your tracks and whisper, Wow! God!

It’s not just the views. It’s the invitation. The Creator of this stunning universe invites us to break from the screens and schedules, and step into His sanctuary — not one built by hands, but by heaven itself.

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands” (Psalm 19:1). But are we listening? Are we looking up?

Wherever we are — city, coast, or crest of a mountain — we can see Him, hear Him, thank Him. But sometimes, it takes a trip to the top to realize just how close He’s always been.