A Journey into Repentance - Encountering Mountaintop Removal

A Journey into Repentance

Encountering Mountaintop Removal

(Journal from a trip last week.)

Today my husband, Wayne, and I traveled across the mountains of West Virginia. In route, we crossed a mountain that has been devastated by mountaintop removal. Mountaintop removal is a devastating procedure used to access coal seams deep within the mountains. It mainly affects our Appalachian mountains, as the last bits of coal here become evermore scarce. With mountain-top-removal, coal companies literally blow the tops off of mountains to get at the coal. Sometimes miles of the tops of mountains are removed just to get at thin coal seams. The debris is dumped into valleys, polluting the headwaters of our streams. Toxic sludge ponds are “created” to hold all the mess that comes from this procedure. The ground, air, and water pollution is, in many cases, traumatic to local communities in the mountains.

As we drove across the winding mountain road, which we have driven across many times witnessing the ever-increasing annihilation of those mountains, today our eyes met a valley completely filled with dust. The ugly gray roads deeply carved into what used to be a mountain where barely visible. The smoke and dust went to the depths of the valley below and to the heights above us into the view of the sky. Today we could not see the miles of ugly gray rock and torn-apart land. We could not see the cliffs and gutted out sections of what used to be a beautiful forested mountain. We could not see the huge trucks that carried the few men that worked on the strip-mine along those roads, filling their lungs with dust and embedding their skin with dirt and coal dust. We could not see it as we had seen it before. Today, it was as if the “not-seeing” was uglier than the “seeing.” It was knowing that it was there and not ever being able to get those images out of our hearts that made the dust seem to be more clear than the examination of the torn-apart land. It was the “not-seeing” that bothered me most. It reminded me of all those years that I did not see the problem – did not know it existed, even though I lived in these mountains and were a part of them. It was haunting.

I noticed how dead the trees were near the road, even though we were miles from the strip-mine – obviously they had been killed-out by all that pollution. It was a heartache to know that this was a way-of-life for the people who lived right there on that mountain. Sure, maybe there were a few who made a living there; there were surely families that lived there and thought that was a normal way of life; and there were many that in their ignorance, thought that this was why those mountains were there – “to use.” I was deeply saddened. I was saddened for the land, for the people, and for my Creator. Surely this was not His will.

My husband once worked for gas-well companies in this area and many times he, out of naivety or lack of knowledge, took part in practices that were also devastating to the land. There were times that briny (toxic) water was dumped onto the ground or even into the rivers. There were unsafe practices that put people and their animals (livestock and pets) in unsafe conditions. There was pollution that could have poisoned people’s drinking water-wells and tainted their fields where they grew their food. For the companies, it was the way of the business, and for the most part, the men that worked there did not have any knowledge of the devastation that could come from this way of business. To them it was the way of earning a living. To my husband, it was just his job.

Recently though, after spending some time away from the mountains, and coming back home, we have learned to appreciate the mountains more and we feel like God has placed in our hearts a love for the land like we never had before. We proudly call ourselves people of the mountains, specifically - Appalachian Mountain People. We love the ways of mountain people and now see more than ever, how mountain people depend on and have a relationship with the land. The land gives us food; it provides for our animals; it gives us medicine and fresh water. A vigorous and blooming land is vital to the livelihood of people in the mountains. The hope of rich lives is tied to the land. In addition, the land gives us something deeper: a sunset in the mountains gives us a sense of awe that can’t be found any other way; the starry sky over a meadow full of singing crickets and frogs and fireflies gives serenity that can not compare with anything else; the rustle of trees blowing through our forests is an unspeakable joy. I could go on and on of the beauties of these mountains that nourish the soul and cause a deep connection with not only the land, but with the Creator – with God.

So as we looked at this devastation and thought of regrets over the past, we felt a deep sense of repentance welling up. We wanted to repent of our ignorance; of our uncaring attitudes that we had for many years while growing up in these mountains; for not recognizing the wonder of God’s creation; for still-yet doing nothing to make a difference. So as we talked about this, we realized that we, because of who we are – mountain people – have a right to offer repentance to God for the devastation that is even now happening. We are one with this problem – it is our land. Our hearts are broken because of the devastation that is here. It is time we recognize our sense of stewardship of this land and help our children to know the value of this land and what threatens its vitality. It is time to speak up about what is going on here and to repent of how we have failed to take care of what has been given us. It is time to say, “Forgive us, oh God, for not caring for your creation – for the goodness you have given us.”

As a family, we are planning to take our children to see this devastation first-hand. We will ask forgiveness for our regrets. We will make promises for the future. And as we look through that mask of dust – that “not-seeing place” we will be determined to see into the providence of God, a bright future – a future that will be beautiful for our children – our mountain children.