I saw them in a picture. I don’t even remember why my friend sent me the picture, but I know I had never seen the Cliffs of Moher before then.  Only I had.  I knew the minute the picture popped up on my screen that I had seen it many times before.  Not in a picture, not in a movie, or anywhere else my soul could pull from memory.  I had seen them in my mind’s eye and my spirit piped up and said, “THOSE are the cliffs you always see!”  They weren’t just any cliffs.  They were somehow very special to my spirit.  I knew from that moment I had to go there.

And that’s why Joanna and I were on the west coast of Ireland, discussing (or debating) with our hostess whether or not it would be safe to walk the Coastal Trail. It was the question on our minds at breakfast the next morning.  There were three other couples at the B&B with us, and the older couple was also planning to hike the trail.  We had all been served our custom breakfasts – I opted for the fancy French toast – and were chatting about who was who and where we came from.  Not surprisingly, the topic of driving came up once or twice, mostly in connection with the monstrous lorries that threatened the life and limb of every tourist who dared get behind the wheel of a microcar.  I think they like doing that.

Then our hostess came in with the News. She said that the local tour guide was going to take a tour that morning and would decide as he went along if he would keep going or not.  Well, that was all we needed to hear.  I think our hostess knew it, too.  She specifically asked us if we were still planning to go alone.  Joanna smiled sweetly and said “yes”.  She is really great at that.

So, we bundled up some gear and some grub, said our prayers, and headed towards the beach. I had chosen this particular B&B because it was within a half mile of the Coastal Trail.  We found the trail without any difficulty at all.  You’d have to be blind to miss it.  It started out as a dirt road that wound along the shoreline, but quite a ways from the edge.   I must admit that we shared a grin or two about the concerns for our safety.

Not to completely discredit our hostess. The path did wind itself considerably closer to the edge and the cliffs continued to rise higher and higher.  At one point we did some stream hopping, but we didn’t have to ford any great torrents of water rushing through from the fields.  I think that God cleaned it up just for us that day.  Not that there was a shortage of mud, however.  Plenty of that to build a whole new island.

I am grateful to the Irish for not following the popular American habit of putting up fences and barriers everywhere that detract from the view or the experience. They had signs saying that the cliff edges might be unstable, so don’t be a fool.  But they allowed you to be just that if you wished.  Not that either of us would ever do anything risky, at least not until later in the day.

The hike and the views were spectacular. You could be walking around a curve in the shoreline and suddenly there was a sheer wall of rock rising from the water across the inlet.  It just took your breath away.  The sea birds flying around the cliffs and landing on the ledges added a sense of timelessness, as if those cliffs and those birds had existed forever.  Many times throughout the hike I felt as if I had crossed the threshold into some ancient realm.  There is something so moving to me when nature takes me beyond the awareness of the time I live in.

We hiked along for probably a couple of hours, more or less alone. There were other brave souls on the trail, so that was encouraging.  Eventually, the tour caught up with us.  We saw the older couple from the B&B and they seemed quite happy to see that we were still alive.  The tour catching up with us turned out to be a huge gift from God.  There was a certain spot where the “official” trail cut up to the highest part of the cliffs and took you directly to the visitor’s center.  Since we were now with the tour group, we got to take the VIP route, which continued along the coast for a while longer and then cut up to the ridge.  So, we walked along with them for a while.

Then I saw the rock ledge.

This was the gift. I saw it first from below.  We were just coming to the part of the trail with the most vertical climb to the ridge.  And I could see this portion of the cliff edge above us that jutted out over the water.  That was IT.  That was the spot.  I can still see that image in my mind – me looking up at the trail and seeing the ledge and knowing that’s where I had to go.

Joanna was still meandering behind me taking pictures, so I let her know that I was hiking up and I’d see her at the top. And I was off.

It is amusing to think of how little we know about what is going on inside of someone, or how vastly different our motivations can be. When I got to the top of the ridge, there were a fair number of people up there, enjoying the view, taking pictures, posing with their families and doing the normal tourist thing.  Yet, here I was, coming to this place for an intense spiritual experience.  Did everyone think I was just another tourist?  Or was there someone else in the crowd I labeled as “pesky tourists” who was having a deep encounter of some kind?  Or was someone up there to try to thrash out their problems and needed some perspective?  Or were they bored and wanted to go home?

What I did know at that moment is that there was a ruckus going on between my spirit and soul. This is the dialog that went on in my head.

“You have to stand there.”

“WHAT!?? Are you nuts?”

“No. You have to stand there.”

“On the ledge. 700 feet above the water.”

“Yes. On the ledge.  700 feet above the water.”

The funny thing is that I think my soul secretly wanted to, even though it was more immediately concerned with how high it would register on the stupidity scale to get anywhere near the edge.  But I was there.  And I knew my spirit knew something so I had to go.

This was the picture I had seen so many times. Me standing on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the water.  I could feel the wind and see the water below me.  I didn’t know exactly why I was there, but I knew I was supposed to receive.  So I asked the Lord to download everything He wished to give me, to unpack the treasures of my spirit, to do what He had brought me there to do.  I felt such an intensity of freedom and dominion that is hard to put language to.

My spirit loved that spot. Apparently, it is not afraid of heights, or sudden gusts of wind, for that matter.  My soul, however, was not quite so carefree about the whole thing and did manage to interject some common sense.  I stayed back a ways from the very edge.

Joanna made her way up a short while after and we wandered off towards the visitor’s center to finish up the hike. But I was lost in my own world and wasn’t likely to emerge any time soon.  Joanna and I decided to part ways.  I was ready to find a shuttle to take what was left of me back to the B&B.  She wanted to hike some more, bless her soul!

On the way back, she had a deep encounter with God.  It was a good day.