This past September, I did something I never thought I was capable of doing. I climbed a 14,000 foot mountain in Colorado. Forget the fact that, out of all possible 14,000 foot mountains to climb, the one I climbed ranked amongst one of the easiest. And forget that it was just 3 feet above the 14,000 mark. I climbed it.
I learned many things about myself that day. For one, I learned that no matter how badly I had to go to the bathroom, I still maintained some semblance of decency and kept my pants up. Somehow the thought of using a foreign leaf with the potential or poison or itch kept my mind off my bladder. I also learned that, when deprived of oxygen and sufficient nutrition, I actually enter a state of mind that constitutes complete irrationality and hostility.
The trip up the mountain was not nearly what I expected it to be. I had envisioned more of a casual stroll with some probable climbs now and then, a few challenging switchbacks and the glorious ability to.....well, breathe. Not the case. In fact, those ideas disappeared before I even reached the trailhead, which was two miles from where we were dropped off due to treacherous roads, in case you were looking to profess sympathy. No, this trip had far more challenges than I expected.
We hiked through the trees. We stopped to admire the scenery. We took photos (more like excuses to stop for water and air). And after the seemingly endless jaunt from the top of the tree line to the beginning of the final climb to the summit, I found myself facing the last 900 feet of quad-spasming, mind-paralyzing, back-breaking boulders. Some small, some tall, some stable, some loose. And while the danger increased and my energy decreased, I realized that I had to intentionally choose each step I was taking in order to advance myself toward my goal of reaching the top of the mountain. Frustration mounted as I took what I thought were secure steps, only to have the rock give way and loosen my footing.
Such is the way I find myself in my life. Rocks of life often are put in front of me that have the potential of either causing me to stumble and fall backwards, or advance me closer to my goal. Though the rocks are all part of the same mountain, if I do not intentionally choose my steps or pay attention to what decision I am making, that rock can either become a stumbling block to my failure or a stepping stone to my success. Choosing rocks that are secure and stable was the only way I could keep going forward. And the thought of the rest at the top kept me going when I thought I could not take another step.
In addition to my little life lesson I learned at the top of the mountain, I also learned how much easier it was to climb back down the mountain. Though plagued by fatigue, the task was much less daunting and the reward of ending up back where I started did not carry the same sense of awe as the splendor at the top of the mountain. But that very splendor at the top of the mountain made every painful step worth the end result. Never before have I experienced such beauty and majesty in God's creation. It seems that the stepping stones in life always lead me to the same destination of peace and comfort, resting in the beauty of the plans of God for my life.
2 comments:
Once again you amaze me with your gift of writing. You have to use it some how in your life time. Use it more then in a private journal. You have a special God-given talent to communicate through the written word. Find a way to use it, share with others. The blog was great. Of course I could relate because I was the one who drove you to the place where "we could drive no farther". Maybe I should write about that? You and your pen...gifted, enjoyable to read and creative!
keep writing my dear friend. i am trying to keep it up as well. miss you and hope all is going well in your life. you have a talent, many i'm sure. xoxoxo! asha
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