The Climb

Over the weekend, I found myself with my birthday gift, my new camera, and was delighted to capture a few rare moments.   While seemingly ordinary, it all brought to mind such depth of thought for me.

I had heard the news of the predicted rapture / end of the world, and while I am probably not up on my end of the world scenarios, I do know, that it will be tough to predict exactly the day, should it happen to be in my lifetime.  No one knows.  That's probably the only thing we can be sure of.  Needless to say, we weren't worried.  We spent our weekend simply enjoying each other as a family, enjoying the weather,  planting our garden, painting the last coat downstairs. 

At one moment during the weekend, I walked through the backyard to the laughs of my crew, and looked up at the sky.  (The weatherman had predicted storms in our area, which failed to show themselves).  There was a serenity, a peace that can only be described as actually having gratitude for THIS day.  It was as if one percent of my reasoning was suspended, and I actually thought, If today is the last day, then I am at peace. 

And then I came back to earth, thinking, how each day should be as such.  Each day we are given should be lived as though it was our very last.  How did I spend my last day on Earth.  Was it spent wastefully.  Did I take for granted that I'd have so many more after this one to make up for how I spent today.  Looking at each one of my children, I know I had told them how much I had loved them.  I know I had taught them that it's not so much the destination, but how you get there, that the climb is so much more valuable than the prize.

Oh, our little Babe.  He's three now, and managing more self-sufficiency than I am quite ready for.   For ages now, he's tried and tried to climb our playset 'rock wall', with no luck.  His tiny hands, arms, feet and legs just could not coordinate themselves to move his body upward.  How many times I'd point here and then there, instructing him which appendage he should move where.

And then, just like that, he figured out each climbing step, steadied his balance, used his tip toes to push himself the needed extra inch to reach the next blue stone.  His proud smile was classic.  He shouted to me, "Momma, I did it!", to which I gave my thumbs up and my equally proud smile in return.  He must have climbed that rock wall fifty times that day, not only to perfect the journey, making it the most efficacious, but to rejoice in his own significant accomplishment. 

His success was inspiring to me.  He isn't a quitter.  He didn't give up.  He lived that day, as though it was his last, and he was going to conquer someting.  He was going to do it, himself, as any boy/man would attest, that the joy comes in the conquering, that self confidence that comes with victory.

Sometimes in life, the journey is like a rock climb.  We stretch our tippy toes to reach the next milestone, all the while hearing the whispers of God in our prayer, Move this way, use this step to reach that one, and so on.  Babe's giant smile of success is ours too, once we've accomplished something seemingly so difficult for us, we rejoice in accomplishment.  The only thing missing at times, is gratitude.

Someone helped us along the way.  Have I looked around and found that peace of being happy with today, that I am happy with the journey thus far, that I have thanked those who directed my life, whether human or Divine.