I moved to Colorado Springs in 1993, a 22-year-old with a
brand new college degree and little else. I didn’t know a soul here. I rented
an apartment a few miles from The Navigators, where I had found a part-time job
as a writer. Unable to live on the $11,000 it paid, I eagerly took another
part-time job as a secretary in my department so that I could eek out a very
modest living.
I felt like a grown-up when I arrived, but I wasn’t. Glen
Eyrie, the headquarters of The Navigators, is where I grew up. It’s where I
understood the kind of relationship God wanted with me. It’s where I learned to
memorize His Word and apply it to my life. It’s where I learned words like
“disciple” and “Great Commission.” It’s where I made my biggest blunders and
celebrated my greatest achievements. It’s where I learned to do the work I do
today. It’s where I met the people who changed the course of my life. It’s
where I met my husband (at the mailboxes) and said my wedding vows (in the
Castle). It’s where I nearly gave birth—Brooklyn was born 12 hours after I left
work one day in April 2004. It’s where I sat on the floor in the hallway with
my friends and bawled like a baby the day my job came to an end. It’s where I
can barely, just barely, muster up the strength to drive by today, more than
five years after my sad departure. Like so many other Navigators around the
world, I think of Glen Eyrie as my spiritual home.
The Waldo Canyon fire raging in our mountains leapt down the
ridge Tuesday evening and charged toward Glen Eyrie. It’s not the first time
the Glen has been in the path of natural disaster, but this is about as close
as it gets. I heard today that infrared pictures show the fire line coming
right up to the edge of the property—where it abruptly ends. Certainly the teams
of firefighters on the property are doing an amazing job defending it. The
castle, especially, as the original home of Colorado Springs’ founder, is so
prominent in the city that they will not let it go down without a major fight.
But I also know there’s another kind of protection that doesn’t need any hoses
or shovels. I can’t begin to imagine how many of us are praying for the Glen.
How we love to see Him answer in such dramatic ways.
Please keep praying for our city—for the 32,000 displaced residents, for the firefighters, for Glen Eyrie. This will be a long haul.
