When the Clouds Parted Over Denali

In 2019, backpacker Sarah Chen spent eleven days hiking through Denali National Park without ever seeing the mountain. Clouds hung low and thick over the Alaska Range the entire trip. Then, on her final morning, she unzipped her tent at 5:00 a.m. and the entire sky had cleared. Denali stood there — 20,310 feet of white granite and ice, blazing pink in the early light. She said later that she wept, not because the mountain was beautiful, though it was, but because it had been there the whole time. Every step she had taken through fog and drizzle, that immensity had been right above her.

Peter, James, and John had walked with Jesus for months. They had seen Him tired, hungry, dusty from the road. Then on that mountain, the veil thinned. His clothes turned blinding white. Moses and Elijah appeared. The voice of the Almighty thundered through the cloud: "This is my beloved Son. Listen to Him."

The glory had been there all along. The Transfiguration did not change who Jesus was — it changed what the disciples could see.

And then they had to walk back down the mountain. That is the part we live in — the descent, the ordinary road, the clouded days. But we walk differently once we have seen. The mountain is still there, whether the clouds part or not. The glory we glimpsed is the truest thing we know.