The Magazine of The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America


Living on the plains

It's here that Jesus talks to me

The first time I saw Colorado, I was woefully disappointed. I had expected the Rocky Mountains to fill the state and that they would be like the Blue Ridge and Shenandoah mountains — only bigger and, well, rockier.

What a disappointment it was to have driven for two days on I-70 through Missouri and Kansas only to discover that eastern Colorado was simply an extension of western Kansas.

It was March 1972, deep into Lent, when my husband and I made that drive in our Country Squire station wagon with our three preschoolers. The sign at the state line seemed ironic: "Welcome to Colorful Colorado." I looked at the dormant plains and wondered just how many shades of beige there could be. There wasn't a mountain in sight. To make matters worse, we weren't on vacation. We were moving to this place. There was no turning back.

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March issue

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