Last week, I told you that I’ve been climbing a steep, jaggedy mountain and that I was almost at the top. I started climbing this mountain the moment Callie passed away in our arms. This path has been hard work. Grueling, perhaps. Twists and turns, dips and bends. And like every good mountain, the pinnacle is craggy, blanketed in thick snow that threatens to sweep you away by avalanche at any moment, and there is no path anymore. Just wherever you can find a toehold and you feel like you are clinging on for dear life. The last bit is exhausting. Why do climbers keep going? Why not turn around, call it a day, and head back to base camp?
Because the view from the mountaintop is breathtaking. That’s why.
I think I’m there, at the top. I actually just grinned really big when I typed that. So, yes I’m definitely at the top. Something shifted inside of me this week, and all of a sudden I looked up and there it was. The top of the mountain. With caution, I stepped up to take in the view.
I’m looking at a pretty and peaceful valley, a new and foreign land, the life that awaits me. I turn and look behind me and see the valley I came from, my old life. I loved that life. It was beautiful too. It was happy and innocent, the weather was always sunny and pleasant, the language of that land was contentment. Turning my gaze once more to the new land, I am filled with curiosity and wonder. It looks nice, but it’s different. How will I fit in with the people that live there? Will I be able to understand them and will they get me? What’s the weather like? I hope it’s sunny.
In between the two valleys is the mountain, Grief Mountain. Dark and twisty. Beautiful and powerful. I know that my journey on the mountain will change me forever. Forever, the scary parts of my hike will jump out at me in the middle of the night or at a random time when I least expect it. I know that memories of the old land will come to me in my new adventure. I will never forget those days, and I will miss the innocence. My experience on Grief Mountain has taught me important lessons that have shaped me, seasoned me, and will guide me the rest of my life. I know that in my new home there will be bad days…
…but the view looks pretty good from here.
Gently, gingerly I step forward onto the path that leads me down the mountain towards new adventures and dreams. Hope is swelling up inside me. Anger dissipated like the wispy clouds I was surrounded in near the top.
Will you hold my hand and guide me down the path of Grief Mountain to my new home? I’m ready. Let’s go.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.