Peaks and Valley’s

Call it bias but I live in the most beautiful place on earth. My view day in and day out is breath-taking. I get to stare at the beautiful Rocky Mountains. I am blessed that I can drive 20 minutes to be completely engulfed by their presence. It is not a sight I ever take for granted.
I escape to those mountains often, especially when my heart is heavy. They are a safe place. They serve to remind me of truth, of who I am and who I am meant to be. They remind me that there is more to this life than what’s in front of me.

Recently my family and I decided to go spend a cooler summer day in the mountains to hike and bask in the beauty that surrounded us. I took in the beauty, I breathed in the fresh mountain air, I silently listened to the sound of the rushing river below and I let it all consume me. It was a healing moment. It was a majestic moment. It was a moment that reminded me of part of my own story.

The mountains do all those things because when I was a lost, hurting, scared, lonely, heavyhearted teenage girl I spent a week backpacking in those mountains and my life was forever changed.

I showed up over-packed and naive. Truthfully I thought it would be a cake walk. I didn’t realize I would have to carry a heavy pack with all my things, plus food up a mountain and back down. I didn’t realize I would have to sleep outside in a sleeping bag vulnerable to anything wild that lived there. The trip was suppose to be a week of escaping my ugliness not facing it head on.

As we hiked along the trail I remember saying to my trail guide that, “ it was really cool when you can actually see how far you’ve come and can actually see you’re going up.” My guide made a comment following that, that has stuck with me ever since; she said, “ yeah it’s kind of like life we can’t see where we are going until we get to the top and then we can see how far we’ve come.” That very conversation is why the mountains will always be my go to place when my heart is heavy. Sometimes when we are in the valley it’s hard to see where we are going. We feel like we are doing all this work and nothing is changing, we aren’t going anywhere. Truthfully it’s like that when climbing to the top of the mountain as well. There are so many moments when you feel like you have made no progress and you’ll never reach the top. Life is much the same way. We gotta hike through the valley to get to the top of the mountain. We can sit and relish in that beauty for a moment. We can see how far we have come and then we begin to make our descent back down the mountain.

That’s where I struggle. I so often want to stay on the mountain top where life is quiet and peaceful. I don’t want to have to climb back through the valley just to go back up to the top of the next mountain. Then I am humbly and graciously reminded that life is meant to be lived in both the valley and the mountain tops. It’s a beautiful and wonderful mixture of both.

So here’s to living in the peaks and the valley’s because both are equally as beautiful, breath-taking and exhilarating as the other.

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Fighting the Good Fight

I was reminded of Theodore’s words in his speech often referred to as The Man in the Arena this morning.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
–Citizenship in a Republic, Theodore Roosevelt
Oh what a true and powerful statement and one that is oh so fitting for my current stage of life. My passion and calling are coming alive before my eyes and I am sometimes holding on for dear life wondering what the hell I am doing. I am in the arena right now and in some moments I feel like I am getting my face marred and at moments I am failing. My failure may not be seen by those on the sidelines watching. But my opponent sees and he relishes in that. He knows where to hit to knock me down and he knows which words to speak to weaken me. He is cunning. He is a master of the arts. He knows how to fight. He is ruthless. But I’ll let you in on a little secret… He is weak. He has no power, unless I relinquish control to him.

He tried last night to knock me out of the arena. He tried to convince me I couldn’t do it. He was right. I couldn’t do it without my trainer. It’s my trainers knowledge and strength I draw from. When I wanted to be selfish and enjoy my night my opponent fed that. He almost had me for a moment. Until my trainer reminded me that this was what I was built for. This is what I had been training for. He put on my gear and sent me into the arena. When I struggled with what move to make next he gently reminded me. When I was up against the ropes he gave me a little extra push off so I could regain my composure and keep pressing on.

My place will never be with the cold and timid soul because that’s where my opponent rests. Even if I loose a few I will not fail. I have a trainer who always wins out. The victory belongs to him and to him be the credit, because after all it really isn’t about me.