As long as I can remember I have loved the mountains. They are so majestic; just pieces of land stretched high to sky with magical treasures inside. When I look up at the mountains I can't help but to feel serenity.
As a young child I often went to the near by mountain ranges. Hiking the trails, visiting the lakes, and occasionally camping were some of the highlights of my childhood. I never thought there would be a day when my favorite past times would become so difficult. Just the other day I was invited on a hike. I weigh 256 pounds, which is a lot of weight to carry on an incline. Each step sent pain through my body. My lungs were not willing to provide the amount of oxygen needed, and I quickly became discouraged. My good friends stayed behind with me. I felt like I was dragging them away from the group and it made me want to quit.
I had to stop several times to catch my breath. Each time I would make a statement about how I should just go sit in my car and give up. They kept encouraging me to keep going and to take my time. (I have pretty great friends). About the fourth time I stopped I sat down on a rock. I pondered a passage in numbers (Kjv bible) about the children of Israel and how they were always looking back at Egypt and how it was better than where they were. They slowly lost a desire to go to the promise land because their journey was too difficult. I too knew what was at the end of my journey, a beautiful waterfall. I became discouraged that my journey was too hard... What did this say about the type of person I was? If I was in their shoes, would I be able to endure the journey?
I have had a few rough days since then but this morning I have a new outlook. Working out is my anti depressant, and looking at the bigger picture is becoming my coping mechanism. So here is to endurance, gaining strength from God, and being one step closer to a better me.
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