I hiked halfway up Kennesaw Mountain today and wrote this where I stopped. Abba is so faithful to show up even in the hard things!
The trees stand like soldiers. Some are veterans, stooping slightly from the toll of war. Others are new recruits, springing forth from the earth in excitement to join the regime. Regardless of age, of experience, the trees accept their job with honor. These trees stand guard of over the secrets of the mountain. Reddish brown leaves carpet the earth at the soldier’s feet, reminders of the years gone past. The soldiers stand at attention, soaking up the sun’s intoxicating rays to prepare for another year of service.
Only the bravest of souls dare to discover the mountain’s delicious treasures at its peak. Many pass by the tree soldiers on their journey, looking defeated but determined. The soldiers, though they guard and defend the mountain, are kind in spirit and cheer the passersby on as they engage in their quest for treasure.
“Keep going,” they whisper, “just a little farther. Treasure beyond your wildest dreams awaits on the mountain we so humbly serve.”
Suddenly, purposefully, a woman enters the courts where the soldiers stand guard. Of average height and build, hair that gleams red as rubies, and a determination to be brave, she braces herself for the journey ahead. Though she desires bravery, she trembles in fear at the sight of the trees. She knows they guard a tremendous treasure on the mountain, and she knows they will not allow the weak of heart to experience it. The woman feels unequipped. She is unaccustomed to the rigorous task before her, but the soldiers sweetly beckon her forward. She gathers her confidence about her and gathers it close.
She begins her journey into the field of tall, strong soldiers. It’s much harder than she imagined. Those who had gone before her made the journey seem much easier than it actually was. She couldn’t breathe. Her fears swam in her mind, choking her. She would not experience the treasure. Her countenance fell and she felt overwhelmed by the task.
Halfway to the peak of the beautiful mountain, she sat down on a rock that had seen its fair share of years as it, too, guarded the mountain’s treasure. The trees looked on, sad that she chose to stop her journey but proud of her for making it halfway.
“Next time,” they whispered gently to her. “Sometimes, being brave means having the courage to come back later and try again.”
It was then, in that moment of defeat, that the woman realized that the treasure the trees guarded was not just at the top of the mountain. It was all around her. It was in the breeze that kissed her tired face and played tenderly with her hair. It was in the sun, whose rays reached out to embrace her arms and neck. It was in the new leaves that grew on some of the soldiers, dancing in the breeze, rejoicing in their newness.
The woman was sure that the mountain offered more treasures at its peak, as the tree soldiers so patiently beckoned her to continue.
But those treasures were for another day. The woman was glad she chose to stop halfway up the mountain, and she was glad she chose to go today’s journey alone. The mountain’s treasure was for her and her alone to discover today. Next time, she would eagerly and bravely see what the mountain has to offer her. But today, the secret of the mountain was shared between the woman with the red hair and the kind, patient tree soldiers. And she realized that even making it halfway was brave.
