When we arrived at our house in Tanzania, it was dark, so we didn't see it until the next morning.
We didn't see the mountain in our backyard.
When I asked our Pastor about it, he said that no World Race team had been to the top.
We knew we would make the summit.
When we started ascending, we had no idea what route we should take.
We just started climbing.
The ground was so littered with leaves it looked like autumn. Our feet didn't appreciate their presence as much as our eyes did. We slipped and scattered and searched for solid rocks to support us. We thought that the climb would take us a couple hours.
After about 20 minutes, we thought we had reached the top rock. We looked out over our village and then turned around to discover that we still had some hiking to do. Every few minutes, we had a similar thought: Surely, this must be the top. And every time, we were wrong.
Finally, we came across the highest boulder. From here, we would have to climb. We slipped a crevice and pulled ourselves up. We clung to a root to pull ourselves against an upright rock. We stretched our limbs and muscles as far as they could to conquer the last obstacle. After only a few more steps, we saw.
I struggle the same way with the sin that remains in my life.
With the strength of the Spirit, I take my first steps, unsure of where He is guiding me. I only know that the summit will be beautiful.
At so many points during my walk, I have considered myself the conqueror. I have felt as though my own strength had taken me as high as I was and that I deserved to be rewarded and to rest. I have felt as if I had finished climbing.
And then God always shows me something greater. He is happy for how far I've come, but he is never satisfied. He shows me the next peak, and He asks me to keep climbing — to keep coming farther from the ground and closer to Him.
He asks us to keep climbing every day.
On top of the mountain, the air was fresher and the sky was bluer and the view was unlimited — we could see all of Iringa from our perch.
We enjoyed the more intimate warmth of the sun and watched it set beneath us.
The next morning, after we had descended the mountain, I told our translator Joshua about our journey. I told him that we had reached "the highest point in Iringa." From our perspective at the top, it might as well have been the highest point in the world.
"No," he told me. "There is a much higher peak. I will show you the way."
