Sometimes I Write

I climbed a mountain once. We lived in Colorado at the time so atleast I was acclimated. That’s about all I had going for me, that and my shortlived sense of hope that I could actually see the world from the summit of the 14er we were climbing. We started off about 4:30 in the morning (Strike 1 in my book) on a cool day. Our plan was to reach the summit by about 10 am, hang out and have lunch, then be back down by 4 pm. I got off to a great start with my spirits high. In my ignorance, I didn’t have a clue what I was in for. It quickly became clear to me that there was no way I was going to be able to keep up with the group of Jr. High & high schoolers we were with. Our fearless leader (who shall remain nameless for my protection :)) has legs that are about 10 feet long so he covered more ground in less time then my average lengthed legs could carry me. I think I made it about half way up the trail before it started to drizzle. (Strike 2) By this time my face was white, I was having trouble breathing, and Benny was getting pretty worried about me. I began thinking maybe I should stay where I was on the trail and wait for everyone to come back down in the afternoon. Thoughts of wild animals I might encounter during that time made me talk myself out of that option. (Hey, I grew up in the city!) Benny and our friend Meagan, a high school student at the time, stayed behind with me and we hiked, then rested, hiked, then rested some more. I was doing the best I could to keep up. Our nameless leader would stop for short rests, during which our trio would catch up just as the break was ending. I have no idea how many buckets of tears I cried that day. By the time we ALL got to timberline, it was raining hard and lightning further up the mountain. (Strike 3) There would be no summitting that day. I was deeply disappointed as my aching body cried out to God that it wasn’t fair that by some miracle I had made it that far and now had to turn back without my prize, the glorious view of the world from the peaks of Mt. Elbert.

Here’s what I learned from that experience:

1. I hate mountain climbing…hahaha…seriously, I do!

2. A positive attitude and an iron will are absolutely prerequisites to the climbing of any mountains (physical and mental mountains).

3. Never underestimate the power of good friends. Meagan did more for me that day than she’ll ever know. She kept my spirits up the best she could.

4. My husband loves me. Benny would say to me, “You see that tree stump up there? We’re going to hike that far then rest, o.k.? I know you can do it! Let’s go!” He never once made me feel like I had ruined his climb, or that he was having to coddle me (though he was). Did I mention he was carrying my day pack as well as his own?

5. Sometimes there is disappointment even when we’ve worked hard for something. It was a horrible day for me, but there were lessons to be learned, and I think I learned them!

6. A good cry is easily disguised by rain dripping down your face, unless you’re me – I’ve never been a pretty crier and could pass for Rudolph’s distant cousin by the time I’ve calmed down.

Now for the rest of the story…On the way back down the mountain I received a lovely red gash down the side of my leg due to slipping on a mud patch. No stitches were required, but my pride was definitely injured as badly as my leg. How much more humiliation can one woman take? Here’s where the story gets juicy! Benny and I returned home, stripped down, showered, ordered in pizza, talked, watched movies, and drank hot chocolate until we passed out from exhaustion. Ah the benefits of marriage!

I know there are more mountains in my future and as much as I love them, I’ll leave the climbing to people who enjoy that sort of thing…I’ll happily wait for them with steaming mugs of hot chocolate at the bottom! As for mental mountains…we all have them to climb! I’ve been climbing one for the past 3 months, but I’m still climbing and still breathing, and Benny and I share the faithful companion role. Sometimes I am the one telling him to focus on the tree stump (the cross) up ahead, and reassuring him that I know he can make it, and sometimes it’s him that cares for my wounds. This climb has had disappointments and rain, but I’m confident that the prize at the top will soon be ours. When I’m perched on the peaks looking down at the world, I’ll remember that awful day and how much I’ve learned since then, and be thankful for all that God has taught me and for all of the great friends who stayed beside me and talked me through the climb.