On one of my days off from ministry, I decided to climb a mountain to go see a ruined castle. According to many of my squadmates, this mountain was just a tiny hill. However, to me, it was the highest mountain I have ever decided to climb. (Please bear in mind, that I have lived in Florida for near 23 years, and that Florida is a state that resides almost completely below sea level.) It rivaled Mount Doom, only the Albanian mountain was missing an army of orcs and molten lava. Still despite these feelings, I decided to embrace this mountain. I just told myself that I was preparing for the trekking I will be doing in Nepal.
The 1st challenge was the six miles jaunt to the mountain from our ministry location. (That was the easy and fun part). We walked past our favorite pizza place and stopped for water at the NetCentre which is a small market and shopping mall. It was refreshing and invigorating. As my group approached the base of the mountain, I felt encouraged. I thought it would be a cinch. I underestimated the power of altitude sickness.
The 2nd challenge was the mountain. At first, I did well. I kept up with the majority of the group, by not stopping to look at the view. But as we went higher, I had to force myself to stop. I was suffocating. I could not breathe. The air was so thin, my body ached for oxygen. Also, my blood sugar was dropping rapidly. I knew that I could not keep with the pace of the group.
The 3rd challenge was asking for help. Several members of my group began to pass my struggling self by with ease. I gasped for air and they were wasting their breath on singing and laughter. Needless to say, my pride was hurt. God forced me to be humble, by way of the mountain. I had to ask for help or I would not make it. When I finally swallowed my pride, God gave me exactly what I needed. God gave me Brooke and Pablo Chavez (a married couple on my squad). Brooke has asthma and Pablo wanted to take more pictures. They were perfectly content going at a much slower pace up the mountain.
We slowly made our way up the mountain, taking breathing breaks, and photo shoots. It was amazing how with this lovely couple supporting me, the fearsome mountain seemed like only a simple rolling hill. I noticed purple butterflies in the grasses and the pomegranates in the trees. I could see God’s beauty on the mountain, because the Chavez’s caring hearts.
“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news” Isaiah 52:7
