A Letter To A Mentor

    I wrote this letter to a someone but it is not specific to him and so I figured I would share for anyone curious about my summer. 

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing from Colorado where I have just finished my third week of work on the ranch. The spring comes much later again and it is truly a blessing to watch it for a second time this year, the Aspens are only just now turning green. I had forgotten the goodness of manual labor. I am normally quite active physically, but it is great to spend my labor on things other than my own self.  My work is variable enough to keep me occupied and interested, but also simple enough to allow me to spend each day mostly in thought and appreciation of the sounds of the mountains and the trees and the birds. The mule deer here are so unafraid that I see at least 10 per day within 100 yards. I am beginning to grow a bond with a horse and am coming to appreciate them for the beautiful creatures that they are. The food is homey and never seems to run out, and especially after two years in college, I had forgotten how good it is to know, be cared for, and show appreciation to the women cooking for me daily. Each night after dinner I go for a run to the top of a nearby mountain to watch the sunset. While the sunset to my west turns to vibrant orange, in the east the rocky, snow-covered continental divide glows pink in reflection. All the weather is quick and forceful here;  the temperature drops quickly at night, and it snowed often during the first two weeks. Afternoon thunderstorms leave as quickly as they come, and I see lightning contained in far off clouds glowing pink in the twilight. I cannot help but think of the pillars of fire and cloud from Exodus. One cannot help but to be humbled in such a place. 

I have been writing a good bit in the short time after sunset before I sleep; it is good to have the majority of my thoughts be of the example trees set, of the beauty of sunsets, and of the importance of spring. These thoughts are much more positive than the considerations of corruption, conspiracy and evil that I find myself dwelling so often on. In my spiritual and intellectual life I think I complicate things too often; never have I spent so much time considering the resurrection of Christ than whilst watching the trees bloom. Never have spent so much time thinking about the nature of death as a Christian ought than while staring at a sunset. I appreciate what knowledge of theology and of philosophy I have because it allows me to appreciate and explore the intricate beauty and wisdom of creation more than I could alone. 

All too often I live so wrapped up with my ego and some facade I maintain that I forget to love and cherish all that is around me. I focus more on bad than on good and on myself more than the world around me. I know that Christ said “Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.”  The mountains knock me easily down, returning me to humility and allowing me childlike wonder and love. I do not think it is possible to truly Glorify God and enjoy him forever with an ego in the way, but only with true humility as a child does. I can feel my temperament changing too; I am becoming slower to anger and rash words. I do not plan to work on a ranch for my whole life nor do I think that the wild western wilderness is the only way for me to mature and to grow. It is however where my path has led me and I pray that God can continue to use his great creation on and in me. 

I have (as always) been truly enjoying and appreciating your weekly papers, and keep you and the church in my prayers. 

God Bless,

Henry Koon