There are things in my life that are easy to understand. Eating grass doesn't make me a cow. I get that. Easy to wrap my mind around. Getting a tan doesn't make me any less ginger. Understandable. Living in a different city than my family doesn't make me not a Thomason. Okay. Of course. Cavemen understand those things.
Sometimes I forget that wearing Chacos and nike shorts and drinking out of a camel back doesn't make me athletic, outdoorsy, and/or granola.
I was reminded of this Saturday. Let's start at the top.
I woke up bright eyed and bushy-tailed promptly at 10:30. More like groggy eyed and frizzy headed and confused but I would have rather been the former. Then my roommate and I did what my roommate and I do best. We sat outside in our pajamas. We drank coffee. We read the Word. I ate cereal. Suddenly it was 12:30. I read anxiously. I looked at my watch. I impatiently did laundry. The day dragged. I remained in my pajamas for good measure. I think I literally watched the time stop. That's dramatic. The time finally came and you best believe I was ready. Chacos on foot. Nike shorts on body. Water bottle full. A little defensive Tylenol in system for preparation.
Pinnacle Mountain is the small hill in Little Rock. Outdoorsy people like to hike it with thoughts of training for Kilamanjaro. Now, there are multiple ways to attack this bad daddy. Walk up the steps. Scale the side. Teleport (only in my dreams). The options are endless. Scratch that. Normally the options are endless. Saturday the "easy route" was closed for some reason. Some nonsense about "trail reconstruction" or something like that needing to be done. Regardless, that meant one thing: We would be going about this the hard way.
At this moment in my life I was torn between two evils. Do I let me Saturday dreams of climbing a hill and adding the accomplishment to my dreams of being outdoorsy, die? Do I let those dreams die a quiet death and just leave and eat Chipotle instead? Tempting. So very tempting.
Or.
Do I buck up and climb the harder side with everyone else instead of sitting in my car and eating a burrito? My pride had one answer. My body and tastebuds had another. My tastebuds would have won the fight if it weren't for one thing.
And that one thing is this. Who wants to be the girl who would rather eat and nap in the car when you're with 4 other people who are perfectly capable and excited about climbing the harder side? Nobody. That's who. And since I'm included in "nobody" I prepared my heart, and started trekking. And sweating. And then my legs slowly but surely turned to jello. And then I suddenly I wished I had something stronger than tylenol in my system or a ski lift. Or 8 months of training for this moment. The rapture. Something.
We made it up and down without too much trouble. Except I almost had a minor heart attack. And feared my for my life. And needed 10 hours to climb it instead of 1.5. I was left feeling like I was that girl. And what happens when you're that person? The person who needs help. The person who's not prepared. The person who struggles. The person who needs to go slower. The person who needs someone, or a herd of people to stay behind? The person who would rather just sit out than live for fear of not being able to?
I've realized something over the course of these past weeks. Everyone is that person. It gets lonely in our brain because we feel like we're the only ones at that place of being the "weak link" of life-when in reality we're all the weak link. Some are just more aware of the need. If I didn't have that deep human need for something better then there would be no need for Jesus. Or grace. Or mercy. Or others. Or all things wonderful and true and real.
Suddenly, I realized being that girl was the most precious and perfect place to be. Only there do I see my dependency on Jesus in it's truth. And embrace it. And experience real life.
"For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says, Do not fear; I will help you"
Isaiah 41:13
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