The ancient Israelites certainly did. And sometimes, loss can make that feeling even more intense.

Imagine this: You're trekking through the desert, following a cloud that miraculously smooths the path ahead. Sounds pretty good, right? That’s what the Israelites had. This cloud, a visible manifestation of God's presence, would flatten mountains to make way for their journey. A divine road grader, if you will! But according to Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, God chose to keep three mountains in the desert for very special reasons.

Why those three? Well, each held immense significance. First, there's Sinai, the mountain where the Torah was given, the place of revelation, of ultimate connection. Then there's Nebo, destined to be the final resting place of Moses, our greatest prophet. And finally, Mount Hor, which was actually a twin mountain.

But here’s where it gets bittersweet. The passage tells us, "The neighborhood of the godless brings disaster." The Israelites were about to experience this firsthand. They lost the pious Aaron, the High Priest, on the boundary of Edom. He was then buried on Mount Hor.

Think about that for a moment. Aaron, the brother of Moses, the one who spoke for him when Moses struggled with his own voice, died. A huge loss for the Israelites and a turning point in their journey. His death marked a shift, a moment of vulnerability.

Now, you might be wondering, why Mount Hor specifically? Why a twin mountain? Perhaps it symbolizes the duality of life and death, the inseparable connection between joy and sorrow. Or maybe it’s a reminder that even in loss, there is a counterpart, a continuation, a legacy.

The text adds an interesting detail: apart from these three mountains, the cloud would leave little elevations wherever the Israelites camped. These weren't just random bumps in the sand. They were deliberate, designated spots for the sanctuary to be set up. Even in their wandering, there was a plan, a sacred space created amidst the chaos.

So, what can we take away from this? It's a reminder that even in the face of loss and uncertainty, sacred spaces can emerge. Even in the wilderness, there is guidance, and even mountains – both literal and metaphorical – can hold profound meaning. Next time you feel lost, maybe look for the little elevations in your own life, the places where you can set up your own sanctuary.