willpower in the heart of the mountain.

Photo: Hunter Gerberich

The most powerful, awe-inspiring and humbling experiences of my life have been on mountain tops. Sometimes, not the mountain top I expected. Sometimes it's so potent because of the real struggle in the valley I came from. Sometimes, I'm just plain shocked at the sheer beauty surrounding me.

Friday morning we decided to take down Mount Huron 14 012 ft (4271m). I'll be honest, fourteeners are a slog in the summer, but in the snow? I was terrified. But for some reason, on that particular morning, I didn't care. I just decided I could do it, so I was gonna. Will power, right?
We got on the trail late, and as we started the ascent up, the snow wrapped its crystal-soaked arms around my calves. I successfully blocked out any sense of "this is too hard" ...for about an hour or two.

As we reached tree line, I was envisioning this blissful opening up of the trees revealing Mt Huron, with a soft harp playing and pixies dancing in the snow. Well, the trees did open up... with a stunning view of two 13, 000 ft mountains, giant and looming, snow drenched pine trees and a shirtless sky. Mt Huron was no where. Just, no where. What.

A fork in the road confronted us: one, continue straight and literally hike up on fresh snow to Brown's Peak (13, 523 ft), or meander across the valley and up some switch backs to the ridge. Switch backs won, 'cause we kinda like being alive.

Photo: Hunter Gerberich

Snow walking is a full body work out. Every step, my legs would sink to my knees, sometimes deeper, my arms would cling to my poles yanking myself up enough to lift my leg and start again. I decided, I'd defy the mountain and cut straight up. Hello slipping, sliding and landing on my butt! I laughed at myself; the things I'm willing to do to avoid mentally tough scenarios amuse me.

From there on up, it was a race against the sun. I could see three mountains surrounding me. One we had to traverse across the side of, one we had to climb to get to Huron and then Mt Huron in all its glory towering IN THE DISTANCE. The actual distance. What. I could've cried. It was literally one foot in front of the other, try not to cry and think of pizza, shower and sleep.

Alas, the sun won. We summited Brown's Peak and knew we wouldn't have time to drop back down and up to summit Huron. But man, oh man. That summit. In every direction, there were snow soaked mountains, bursting out of the earth, spreading their majestic, bulky arms over the land. This was the mountain we were meant to summit on the way to Huron, but it ended up being our destination. And, It was perfect. I will never be able to completely articulate the feeling of being on top of a real, honest-to-god mountain.

Photo: Hunter Gerberich

I've come to the conclusion that climbing mountains is mental. It's not about being physically fit, although that helps. It's not about being used to the altitude, although that definitely helps. It's in my head. It's how I speak to myself, how I handle my fear, exhaustion or overwhelming sense of "I just caaaaaan't."

I speak to myself everyday. I speak to my heart, into my fears, dreams, purpose. Into my identity. Sometimes, I'm so oblivious to what I'm saying and I have little idea as to why I feel less than me, less than who I know I was created to be. David, man after God's own heart (what!) spoke to his heart:
"Why am I discouraged? // Why is my heart so sad? // I will put my hope in God! //
I will praise Him again // My saviour and my God!" // Psalm 42:5.

Willpower. "I will!" We have power over ourselves. It's taken me way too long to recognise that.
Honestly, these mountains have humbled me, quietened me (probably a good thing?), moulded me. They've shown me my power. They've opened my mind to my ability. They've given the Lord a chance to strengthen me in places I've hidden. This change has happened in the many valleys, switchbacks, false fronts and snow drenched trails that are freaking hard to move in. This is life.

I don't believe we're meant to live on the mountain top. How can we ever reach the world from a mountain top? The valleys come. Often, they come with much distance, discouragement, anger and fear. Who am I to say that God isn't just as present in these valleys, as he is on the mountain top? Who am I to see a season as my forever?

Seasons are just that. Seasons. They come; sometimes they're dank and crap; other times they restore us with new life; other times, they're just kind of... nothing. And, thats okay.
"For the Lord your God is living among you. // He is a mighty saviour.
He will take delight in YOU with gladness. // With His love, he will calm all your fears.
He will rejoice over you with joyful songs." // Zephaniah 3:17.

Bring on the valleys! X

Descending between Brown's Peak (left) & Mt. Huron (right)

Photo: Hunter Gerberich

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