Suffocating On A Mountaintop

My gut twisted in on itself. It was finally here, the day of the re-hike. I walked down the gravel road to the starting point, trying to slow my breathing. This is it. Lord, give me strength. The air was quiet, yet, there was an eerie cloud that lingered over us. This was the final test. The moment we needed God to show up. The only way we were going to get through this, was through His strength.

“If anyone is anxious, pick a rock, and I’ll carry it for you.” A squad mate said. I placed a lumpy pile of stone on the table before him. This was something we did during the first hike. It was a symbol of carrying each other’s burdens. An act of genuine love that caught me off guard during the first hike.

“If you are hiking, please step forward so we can pray for you.” All five of us slowly inched forward. Prayers filled the rigid air. Bold prayers. Beautiful prayers. For victory and triumph. For peace and unity. But above everything else, prayers that our shortcomings would glorify God. “Amen”.

We pulled on our packs as a few squad mates ran ahead. We needed to hike 1.35 miles in 30 minutes. The plan was for some people to hike alongside us, and others to cheer from the sidelines. We walked up to the edge of the concrete. Inhale. One. Exhale. Two. God’s got this. Three.

Amongst the cheers of those around me, I pushed myself forwards. One step after another. Up the first hill, and onto the second. And then came the third. Sweat trickled down my cheek. My lungs felt tight, unable to catch the air before me. My body felt as though it were made of lead, stiff and hard to move.

The hill before me suddenly turned into a mountain. Tall and kissing the clouds. I can’t do this. I won’t make it in time. The pounding of my heart echoed through my ears. This was it, the moment of my second failure.

“If you need to, grab my hand.” The girl beside me said. It was as if she knew the thoughts roaming through my head. I grabbed her outstretched hand. If you can’t move this mountain, then I will help you climb it. The Lord’s voice birthed courage in that moment. Courage to keep going.

I ran down the rocky road towards the finish line, my squad mates clapping and yelling. “25 minutes!” I hung my head back, smiling towards the sky. I made it!

One by one, the others crossed the finish line, all within 30 minutes. The eerie cloud faded away as joy poured into our bodies. It melted away any doubt or worry we had carried, and overflowed from our mouths.

We were all going to launch on the World Race. We would all be going to Chicago. Nothing could keep us bound any longer. I hugged each of my squad mates, thanking God for pulling me through. 

In the end, our mountains are bigger than we are. They are tall, deep, and sometimes impossible to maneuver. In those moments of impossibility, when we are unable to move those mountains, are we willing to cling to God to pull us through?