The Cliffs of Mohr stretch for an impressive 8 kilometers along the west coast of Ireland in County Clare. They fall precipitously to the edge of the ocean seven hundred feet below. Along the grassy fields above, there are no guard rails, no fences, just a line where the earth meets sky.
I spent an afternoon there. A glorious, solitary, cloudless September afternoon. I found a spot in the field with grass so deep I was invisible to passersby when I laid down - which is exactly what I did. I was close enough to the cliffs edge to feel daring, but far enough away to feel safe. I closed my eyes and allowed the concert of crashing waves and sea birds to seep into my soul. When I finally opened my eyes again, it was dusk. For four hours I had been cradled in a peace so profound that I was afraid to get up for fear I would never experience it again. I found God there. Or should I say, He found me.
What could be kinder?