Have you ever felt like you will never be able to reach a dream or pursue a passion? Sometimes...sometimes it feels like that for me. It feels like I just don't have the strength to continue on the same course. The obstacle in front of me is too great. I stop in my tracks, look up and think, "I'll never conquer this...there's just no way". I feel like this almost every time, every time my wrist begins to ache doing a small task, every time my hand cramps up when I'm playing my oboe. I just can't conquer this tendinitis. I can't see the end, but I can't just quit either...
My mom recently had an ATV accident. It was her first time on one. She jumped off for fear of tipping (which can be deadly). She broke her shoulder, a few ribs, and her pelvis. My mom has a hard enough time moving around anyway because of a past injury to her leg, but now she is in almost constant pain and needs help to do most of her daily tasks such as taking medicine (she can't open the bottles), using the restroom, adjusting positions, getting water, getting food, etc. The first week and a half being out of the hospital were the hardest on her. Everything had to be done for her, she hurt all the time, and the shock of her injuries was sinking in. According to my dad, she was becoming depressed. We got home from Alaska, and Dad went back to work. Mom still gets frustrated because she can't do a whole lot for herself, but she has improved in multiple ways. She keeps trying to do more for in one week, one of my brothers is getting married in California (14 hour drive). She would give the world to be there. Even through the pain, I have watched her endure.
A week ago, I embarked on a slightly crazy adventure: to climb the tallest mountain in Idaho, Mt. Borah (12,662 ft). My singles' branch president does this every year and always invites everyone to join him. Before I go on, I should let you know that this trail to the top of the mountain is 3 1/2 Miles long and 1 Mile in elevation. The average trail is 20% grade (VERY steep). The last mile of the trail scrambles over rocks, shuffles across Chicken-out Ridge, slides on top a snow field, and climbs up a final rock face to the top...all can be done without climbing equipment. I had my doubts about how I would be able to handle such a trail, but my hopes were high, and I wasn't going to let my brother and sister have all the fun without me. We camped overnight at the trail head among other vehicles and tents. Then we were up at 4:30 AM the next morning to prepare for the hike. Our group of about 10 prayed in the dark just up the trail from the fence at 5:15 AM, and we began. I quickly knew that I would not be able to keep up with the rest of the group (a fact usually true whenever I go uphill due to my slight case of asthma and overall out-of-shape-ness). My sister was in the same boat. After about 15 minutes of trying to keep up, I and Rebekah stepped aside the trail and let the group pass. President Inskeep told us the night before that he would only go as fast as the slowest hiker. 10 minutes later after the group was ahead we saw a flashlight standing still. Inskeep kept his word and fell in slow steady step with us. During that first hour I thought many times that I might just have to stop and turn around. Though I paused often, I never turned around.
Soon after that (which was the easiest part of the trail) my lungs began to work a little better, utilizing as much oxygen as it could get, and I stopped heaving as heavily. We continued on slowly and the trail grew steeper. I looked back a while after first light and saw the valley spreading out below us. We were higher than I had thought we were. Inskeep constantly encouraged, "Look how far you've come," and "Slow and steady, this is a steep trail, and we still have a long ways to go". When we paused at the first ridge, I thought maybe I should turn back, but I didn't. The next long portion of the trail up to the tree-line was steeper still, heading almost strait up--no switch-backs. We traveled even more slowly with the goal of breaking the tree-line in mind. At one pause, Pres. Inskeep shared an analogy with us that had just occurred to him: Satan tries to convince us all to stay in the valley. God encourages us to climb the mountain. You would think that life in the valley is better for it is easier and you can just relax by the river. But up on the mountain, though the way may be very hard, you can look back and see a bigger picture. Why would you ever want to stay down there when you can see all that.
Rebekah and I only made it to the first ridge above the tree-line before any of the rock scrambling, but I believe the climb was worth it. We had a good view of Borah Peak in one direction and the valley and parallel mountain range sprawled below us in the other. We sat and watched the sun rise over the peak and then headed back down (a task that is almost as difficult as going up). Rebekah and I regretted not being able to make it to the top as we had wished, but when I thought back to where we had reached, I was so glad I had not turned back before that first ridge. I was reminded on that adventure that the best things in life don't come easy. Most of the time life will be downright difficult. But it's through those most difficult times that we must remember the end goal and plow on, never giving up.
I trust that even though portions of my life are really difficult right now, God knows the greater purpose in it all. As I accept my weakness, He will teach me how to grow stronger. I trust that one day I won't look to the future and see more pain. One day I will be able to play without the ache and cramps. That day may not be today, but as I seek the help I need in therapy and in God, I WILL OVERCOME. One day I will look back, see how far I've come, and thank my Heavenly Father for putting me through all the hardship. The view from there will be worth everything else.
