Have you ever worked your hardest to climb an overwhelmingly high mountain? You may think it’s impossibly high, because you have never seen the peak. The mountain is steep and rocky, and it’s tough to even get a foothold. Just when you think you have found a little ledge on which to rest for a bit, it breaks loose and you slip back. Then you have to work even harder to get back up to the place where you were before you slipped. All the while, the sharp rocks are cutting into your hands and legs, gravel and dust are falling in your eyes, and you begin to believe that you will never reach the top. Maybe you don’t care anymore and think seriously about staying at the bottom, where you can lurk in the mountain’s shadow without even seeing the sun.
One of my daughters loves to go rock climbing. She finds it exhilarating and a wonderful challenge to conquer. I prefer to dive into a cold swimming pool. But whether diving or climbing, you still have to do it head first without knowing what to expect along the way.
Climbing mountains in life is one of those things that we sometimes must do begrudgingly. It is much easier to do it with the support of a buddy, even with the jagged rocks and dust. Knowing that that climb could continue for a very long time can be very disheartening, but doing it alone makes it even more daunting.
What do you do when you think you’ve been making progress, and then you lose confidence and begin to think that you might have been doing it wrong? What if you think that you are the one whose climbing has been dislodging all the rocks and gravel onto the people behind you?
Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time you will reap if you do not grow weary.” Climbing higher may be good, and it gives you a broader view with each step. However, it is hard to not lose heart and then doubt your progress when faced with opposition. Whether it’s rocks and gravel in your face or the doubts of others, the opposition is the same.
I pretty much grew up with a theater being my home away from home. I was either dancing in one or sitting in one. The orchestra seats and the box seats are the most expensive, because they are closer to the stage or eye level. But way up high in the balcony and upper tiers, although the stage may be further away, you can see the whole stage at once and how it fits into the surrounding theater. Your field of vision catches everything that’s going on at once without having to focus on one side, possibly missing important things on the other side.
When I was in high school, I worked as an usher at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. My friends and I loved being stationed on the orchestra level, because we had the best view during the performances. Every so often, we would have to work on the highest tier. We hated it. We were young with an “orchestra level” perspective. Close up was where we knew the action was. However, we were missing the fact that high up was where the real view was, and still is. The majesty, the lights, the colors, the perspective are all enhanced and show the magnificence of how everything fits together. When choreographers create a ballet, they start with a mental picture of how they want it to look from the perspective of the entire audience. I have danced in ballets that were wonderful to perform, but when we finally saw a video of the performance, we were often surprised and amazed at how it fit together as a whole. Certain movements and floor patterns that didn’t seem to stand out when doing them close to each other in the studio or on stage looked so different and complete when viewed a different way.
So, meanwhile, back on the mountain –
Climbing can be painful, but it IS progress. The people climbing behind you may also be experiencing pain and bruises, but they are also still making progress. Everyone is struggling with the jagged edges and loose ledges, but because they are right behind you, they may be attributing their pain to you. You are aware of the people above you kicking up rocks in your face, but the people behind you are also kicking up their own rocks to the people below them. We are all on the same mountain, and climbing hurts.
But let us not lose heart. We will all reach the peak, and we will all have injuries that will heal. But continuing to climb, no matter what, is “doing good.” Yes, it hurts, sometimes a lot. In that case, we still climb; it just has to be done in pain for a while. When we get to the peak, the view will be amazing, because we will be able to look back down and see how and why it all fits together.
Dance on.
Grace Notes 