Labor day. I have about decided that holidays mean extra work as a parent. Have you noticed that kids like to do more on days off? It's like they have an innate sense of laziness in parents and have a passion to crush that demon. Okay it wasn’t that bad. Actually we had a great time! We went to the city park here in Olive Branch and picnicked, hiked and played. The hiking was interesting b/c the trail really was a bit challenging. I took Sierra [8] and Phoebe [4] with me. Sierra is like an ATV so I had no concerns that she would fair well. However, Phoebe is less than outdoorsy. In fact I call her my little princess. She is only four yet she insists on wearing pink and keeping her nails nice and long. It is amazing. So needless to say I was a bit concerned about taking her on this trek.
What lies inside a person is amazing. True leadership and veracity is rarely on the surface, but usually lays deeply dormant in a person, until they are faced with an unsavory situation. Something that requires them to dig deep.
Past the people pleasing Flamboyancy.
Past the sociological properness.
Even digging deeper, past the political correctness of this century.
Phoebe, was not overwhelmingly excited about going on the hike. I think she would have been just as happy to stay at the picnic sight with Noah her younger brother. But she chose. She willingly chose the hard, adventurous road. I mean after all anybody can sit on a blanket, but it takes an adventurer to get off the blanket and see what lays just beyond the trees. (Okay, so I am waxing a bit warm, however she is MY daughter, and there is a point to this). So our small group ventured past the tree line and began to climb. Sierra was off ahead of the pack, and Phoebe stayed close to me. As we approached the first hill that loomed in front of this tiny framed 4 year old, I leaned down and said, “You can do it honey, even Princess’ need to know how to climb.”
She never stopped walking she just said, “Yea, I know I can do it. I can SO do this.”
She climbed. All the way up the hill, as her pink Converse All-Stars slipped and skidded in the dirt, you could her Phoebe saying in a tiny quiet voice, “I can do this. I can make it. I know I can, I can do it.”
(Of course you know I was proud right?)
Hill after hill she climbed. Now and then she would look back to make sure I was right behind her, and then she would turn and keep climbing. Encouraging herself all along the way. Never once crying. Never once saying I quit. Not once did she say, “This hill is too big. I’m just a little girl.” Not once.
We got to the end of the trail and we had a choice. We could walk back to the picnic area via the parking lot, or back the way we came, via the trail. I said, “Okay Phoebe, let’s go back this way it’ll be easier.”
Her jeans were covered in dirt. Her pink high-tops had an even dusting of brown silt that made them look more tan than pink. Sweat was running down her face streaking the dirt that had caked there. And her long finger nails had dirt and grime packed beneath their manicured shape.
She didn’t look like a princess.
“Dad, why can’t we go back the way we came. It was fun, and I can do it.”
We took the trail back.
I realized through this little holiday hike that I can do it. Even when the hill in front of me is sometimes a mountain, I can do it. Maybe that’s what Jesus meant when he said that if you had enough faith you could cast a mountain into the sea.
One step at a time.
Each step encouraging YOURSELF.
Now, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair of pink high tops, and god forbid I get my nails done, but everybody needs to climb. Life is too long to sit on a blanket and eat fried chicken. At some point we have to get off the comfy blanket and climb. It is not the easiest thing to do, but we can do it. It is not the road most traveled, and it is not what everybody else is doing, but we gotta climb. It doesn’t take special gear, you don’t even need a B.A. in trail climbing. Our Heavenly Father is right behind us the whole time. Just in case we fall, he catches. Just in case our little high-tops slip, he slides his hand underneath them to give them sure footing. And, he never leads us to a trail that 1) He doesn’t want us to climb, and 2) He never leads us to a trail that we can’t climb.
So I don’t know about you, but I’m climbing. Even if I slip. Even if I get dirty. I am NOT sitting on the blanket. It’s time to climb, the view at the top is merely a moment in time that gratifies; but the knowledge that I got off the blanket and climbed is a life time of satisfaction with zero regrets.
