Mountain Tops

Over the summer I spent a month living in Antigua, Guatemala. During my time I engaged in conversations with the locals (well, attempted to), drank lots of coffee, and accepted adventures as they came my way.

There was one adventure unlike any other—the night I slept on the volcano Acatenango.  It was a grueling 10 miles up. My friend Emily and I were told the hike was worth the intense pain we would experience along the way, so we got a group together and set out early on a Saturday morning. It was a test of endurance and we didn't know what to expect. We arrived at the base of the volcano as rain started to come down. The next step was to put on rain jackets, strap on our packs, reposition our sleeping bags, and jackets and then begin our ascent.

trail near the summit

It was hard. The beginning had us grasping for air as the path (made of volcanic ash) went straight up ahead of us. Each step forward led to a slight slip backwards, due to the makeup of the path. Slipping was inevitable. Every step became more difficult and I kept thinking there is NO way I'm going to make it to the campsite. We had breaks throughout the trek as we passed through cornfields, jungles, dry forests, cloud forests, and the barren top of the volcano. We traveled as a group but it was an individual experience. Everyone handled the situation differently. Some stopped to take pictures of the scenery, some walked quickly, other slowly, large steps, small steps, long breaks, short breaks, etc. Each experience as unique as the individual on the trip. It was the rain, sweat, laughter, tears, struggle to get air, and landscapes along the way that made the whole trip worth it. Upon making it to our campsite (many hours later) a storm came. The tent shook with such intensity, the volcano next to us erupted, the wind howled, and our belongings slowly became wet.

views from the top

Sunday morning we woke up at 3:30am to climb to the summit of Acatenago to catch the sunrise—the moment we had been waiting for. It was suppose to be spectacular. Views of Fuego as it erupted next to us, magma spilling down the sides, colors unfurling in the sky above; however, we had a different experience. Our summit experience was glum and foggy, as we sat in the 30 degree temp in a cloud of grey (yes, we wore winter jackets in central america). It was a bummer. We sat shivering looking at the grey volcanic ash that was no less than 10 meters from where we stood. There was no changing the circumstances so we spent time filling our lungs with oxygen. On the way down (the in between)  the sunrise was beautiful. The valley stretched our below, we could see for miles—Amazing! It was exactly what I wanted it to be...an adventure.

what we experienced (above) vs. what we
expected to experience (below)

I think life goes a lot like this hike sometimes. We constantly look towards what is to come—the destination—and forget about the in between. If I didn't enjoy the journey up the volcano, the summit would've been pointless. I would not be writing or reflecting on my time on that volcano. I would despise it for the beauty it did not show. It was in the laughter, and the struggle of the climb that I found the most joy. The moment where I realized how blessed I was to endure an intense hike made it all worth it. It was the in between that was the sweetest, not the beginning and not the end. Recently I  have been learning about the in between, about patience in the wait. Transformation happens in the transition, we learn by going and seeking, we learn by waiting. In the unknown of the trail we can experience the sweetest joys, such as a sunrise or magma spilling out of a volcano. God is visible in the waiting for we are the most vulnerable as we wait for what is come. Embrace this time.

sunrise on the descent from the summit

Ben Rector sings "Cause life is not the mountain tops, It's the walking in between." Yes, the mountain top experiences are amazing but if you don't enjoy the different terrains and experiences, the pictures at the top are worth nothing. Each individual takes the road to the top differently (some slow, some fast) but somehow we can end up at the same place. During this season as we get ready to transition into a new year, to a new time, embrace the in between. Embrace the moment and where God is taking you. For the smallest of moments can bring joy to the ordinary. Become alive in the in between, as Jesus uses these moments to bring about change. For Jesus is on the opposite side of the in between, waiting as we journey with Him to the end. How sweet it is!

fuego ft. emily

campsite ft. volcan Agua in the background

They See Me Roller Skating

Imagine a hundred plus kids recklessly skating around a rink—kids are falling, dancing, singing, going by at wicked speeds, or at a slow crawl around the outside. Every Tuesday, for eight weeks, the camp I worked at would take a field trip. The trips ranged from the NC Zoo to bowling to my favorite, Jelly Beans. Tuesdays at Jelly Beans were fun but also full of fear as many kids strapped on roller skates (or blades, whichever is you prefer) for the first time and attempted to make it to the rink. In some cases I was directly guiding kids and assisting to their needs, while at other times I was skating around singing and dancing with the kids who knew how to skate. Both occasions were fun, but there was something special about being able to help the little ones.

At one point I entered the rink and grasped the hand of a six year old who was struggling to make her way around the rink. She held on for dear life and wouldn't let go—even when she was sliding left, right, forward, backward. The little girl had no clue what she was doing, but she trusted that I did. She believed that if she held on at the end of unsteady moment she would once again return to being on her feet. In the moment of aiding the six year old I took a moment to look around at the other counselors skating around the rink. Many of them were swooping in to teach kids the basics of roller skating, even if that meant they were moving six inches every thirty seconds. I watched them as kids used them for stability, without even questioning if there was a better option. Kids grabbed on tight when they were teetering the most AND when they were skating smoothly.

It was in this moment that I realized how skating is like our relationship with Jesus. So many times we forget that holding on to God is for all moments, not just when we are having trouble keeping our balance. In Matthew 18 Jesus calls us to "become like little children," and I believe my experience at Jelly Beans was an incredible reminder of what He meant. I so often hold onto Jesus tighter when I become a little unsteady or unsure of the next step I should take. While I am trusting, I'm not relinquishing full control. Jesus wants us to hold his hand and take steps with Him in every moment. The Lord wants us to have the full trust of a child, in all situations. Whether we are learning to skate with Him for the first time or if we've been skating for years. So if I am in the middle of singing and dancing without a care in the world or I'm grasping on for life hoping not to fall again, I will trust in Jesus. I will hold his hand as He guides me through His story. Because the story of Jesus is far greater than my own! Cling to the fact that your story is God's story and is being intricately woven to redeem and restore. Jesus is the only one that fills us up and makes us whole—the one who created the mountains and seas is calling you to Him. How will you answer?

Amos 4:13

"He who forms the mountains,

who creates the wind,

and who reveals his thoughts to mankind,

who turns to darkness,

and treads on the heights of the earth—

the Lord God Almighty is his name."

Fresh Coat of Paint

Weekend projects are in my blood. Home Depot was my home away from home as child, and a place I spent many of my Saturday mornings. From the simple projects of putting paint on a wall or moving around furniture to laying tile floors and making backsplashes. The satisfaction of checking off a project provided SO much rejuvenation. 

Transformation. 

Painting–it all starts with a gallon of paint and dash of motivation to revamp a room. Pictures and art from past decorations must be taken down and the holes filled and then sanded down. The next step is outlining the room with a brush, a tedious but necessary task. With drop cloths covering the ground, the walls can then be saturated using a roller covered in paint. Sometimes it takes two or three coats to evenly cover the space and cover up a dark color that previously stood.  

 Life with Jesus is a whole lot like painting a room. 

Jesus is transformative, he covers you in love like a fresh coat of paint. But life before Jesus is confusing and driven by a consuming worry of self image. We become a safe harbor for anchors of grief, worry, stress, anxiety, and more blemishes than our mind can fathom. Our walls become covered in markings that we would rather not acknowledge. It's overwhelming...BUT with Jesus, we are made new. The holes in our walls, the marks from where furniture left a scratch, or the place where a child accidentally created an original piece of art, are painted over. Dark colors are turned light, and there is an overwhelming feeling of freshness, a new beginning. When we enter a relationship with Jesus, we are born again, made new and given a new start–a blank slate!!

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:

The old has gone, the new is here!"

2 Corinthians 5:17

With Jesus our blemishes are taken away; however, there are times where dents or markings can't be fully repaired. My mom likes to say these spots contribute to the "character," of the room. While these things can't be fully restored to previous condition, they are stilled covered in the paint, "Jesus." It's part of our testimony, what leads us to Jesus and is used by Jesus to show his compassion for us. 

At times painting can get tiring and we want to give up. After about two walls we wonder, what's the point? It looked okay before... but we have to keep trucking because a half painted room is not part of the design plan (and let's be honest, it just doesn't look good). With Jesus we aren't left as a half finished project finished, he covers us in more love than we could imagine. He finishes the job and makes touch ups to ensure we are FULLY loved and are covered so we can share his love with others. 

I'm glad I've been painted with Jesus and that my blemishes and scars can now be used to further his Kingdom, it's all part of my story and one I'm glad I get to share!!

Josh Garrels "Born Again" //

I cry at your feet, wounded for me

And all of the monsters and men

But here in your light

We can begin again

I'm my mother's child

I'm my father's son

It took me a while

But my time has come

To be born again