It’s an unusual day in Colorado.  It’s a little chilly and rainy.  The chilly can be usual this time of year (I’ve heard), but not the rainy.  The sun shines about 300 days of the year here.  Most days, I look out and see the majesty of the mountains in the west.  They are so beautiful.  But today is different.  I see the corn fields (as usual), nice and golden on the top and where I usually see mountains towering above these fields, I see nothing, absolutely nothing. Just gray.  I couldn’t help but think how easy it is to doubt when I can’t see.  Are there mountains there? No.  But wait, I hiked those mountains just last week. They ARE there.  I know this by experience. It’s a simple analogy, I know, but God exists. I have history with Him.  True, sometimes he seems silent, distant, removed, but I know He’s there-just as solid and unmoving as the mountain I can’t see. As I typed this last sentence I glanced over at the window and see the sun is shining for the first time today.  I bet the mountains have “returned”.