Climbing the Mountain

There is something about having a child that allows you to see the world through a different viewfinder. Something about getting down on their level, seeing things from their point of view. It brings you to your knees. Humbles you. Makes you think about things that, before, seemed too simple, obvious.

The other day as I watched E climb the stairs (with me standing behind her, of course) I thought about how those stairs must seem like a mountain to her. She is less than 2 feet tall and those stairs are far taller. To me, they are just stairs. I go up, I go down (and then back up because I forgot something). Sometimes tripping along the way. But not E. She climbed them. She climbed that mountain that was in front of her without fear. She knew Mommy would catch her if she fell. She knew she could do it with Mommy behind her. No trepidation, fearless, brave little 1 year old climbing a mountain.

Isn't that life? Aren't we all climbing our own mountains. Some steeper and full of sharp rocks, others that seem straight out of the Sound of Music, green with grass and blue sky above. The difference is the fear factor. That dreadful anxiety that sweeps across the hills of life. Will I ever make it? What if I fall? What if I fail? What if the rocks give way beneath me and I tumble back to the bottom?

You see, E knew better than I how I ought to view my mountain. She knew Mommy would catch her. She wasn't fearful, instead she moved forward boldly. She often checked to see that I was still there, still able to catch her, and then she moved. She didn't wait for me to tell her it was OK. She didn't ask to be carried. She moved, even though she knew that she could not do it by herself.

We ought to scale that ferocious mountain with that sort of surety. That sort of trust in the Catcher, our Protector. The one who set our path on that mountain, knowing full well our weaknesses. We, well I especially, ought to trust that if and when we slip, He will catch us. We ought to check in, constantly relying on the strength of Jesus to propel us forward, that we would know our weakness and rely on the one who gives true strength. Then we move, we don't wait to be carried, we move with the Mighty One standing behind us, boldly and without fear. We listen for His guidance, our True North. And we move, we go, we clamber up that mountain with the grace of a toddler learning to walk. Tripping and slipping into the arms of a gracious God, always there to catch us and put us back on the path He has chosen.