Climbing Higher

Travelling. One of my favorite things. Going out in the woods. Definitely the most peaceful place I can think of. This weekend, I got to do both! Since I have been feeling much better (and before my next Chemo treatment), Rick thought this weekend would be a good time to get me out of the house. So we planned a quick trip to Chattanooga with friends for rock climbing.

Our 16 year-old daughter Danielle starting climbing with her boyfriend Chad (also 16) several months ago. Chad has been climbing since he was 3 with his parents who've climbed for years. So they were all there tagging along with us on a trip that was initiated by our good friend from Louisiana, Fred and his daughter Kayla. As for me, my only task was hiking in (my favorite "sport") and sitting around eating (my second favorite sport).

As I watched the kids climb those rocks, I was amazed at their determination and focus. Chad was like a different person on those rocks. Typically he's lighthearted and has a wonderful childlike grin and he and Danielle do alot of laughing around our house. But on those rocks, he was focused and demanding on himself. He put everything he had into getting to the top of every climb, pulling himself up with shere determination and his own strength. And Kayla, at only 12 years old and weighing in at maybe 65 pounds, moved on those rocks with abandon and tenacity. Danielle had the same determination, pushing through her fear of heights. At one point when she was climbing and got stuck for a moment, Chad offered to help her by pulling her rope on cue as she stepped up and made a move. Her answer: no thanks - I want to do try longer to do this on my own.

It reminded me of her childhood. I could hear her saying "no mommy, I can do it myself". "No daddy, please let me do it!" It was a joy for me to watch.

As the day wore on, I wore out. I was pretty much just sitting there like a lump, but the heat and lack of hydration and fatigue from my treatment began to settle in. So I decided to stand up and start hiking out while I could get out. Rick came along beside me to make the trek back to the car. It was maybe 2 miles out of there. Before chemo, I could do 20 miles. Now, two miles seemed like a good goal. By the time we made it to the last part of the hike out, Rick was in front of me and I was holding on to his fanny pack. He had offered to carry me out, but the little girl in me was saying -"no mommy, I can do it on my own. " What the grown woman said was "I have cancer, cancer does not have me."

And then I prayed. Father, help me walk out of here. A few more steps, a little weaker... Father, I need your stength right now. A few more steps....alot weaker.... Daddy, I'm so scared right now - will you help me walk. By now, thinking I was going to pass out.... Daddy, will you carry me out of here?

How about you? Are you ever so determined to do something on your own that you refuse help? I think we all do that. That's part of the human spirit. It helps all of us to have a goal - and the process of pushing ourselves to climb higher and higher is good for us. It teaches us alot about who we are. But when we reach the end of our own ability, it's really important to remember whose we are. Those bumper stickers that say "God is my co-pilot" are just bad theology. You and I are not God's equals. God better be in the driver's seat. Without him forging the path ahead of us, there's just no reason to get to the top of the mountain or the end of the journey. And it's a whole lot easier getting there if we have Him to reach out to and hold on to when we come to the realization that we are at the end of our ability. Practice being a follower. You still get to climb high, it's just alot easier and more peaceful getting to the top knowing Daddy is waiting for you when you arrive.

God is good. And we are blessed.