Something Missed

Don't you hate it when you're watching a good movie or TV show and you glance away for a millisecond and something happens on the show that is not words but something you have to see to understand. And for 10 minutes you're asking "what'd I miss?" And no matter how many of your friends and family tell you what happened its never the same as seeing it for the first time. It sometimes comes close but never is it exactly right. I missed something this weekend, something that was needed, for lack of a better term something almost required. Why did I miss this something? Mostly because I'm stubborn and bullheaded and tried to work through an injury without going to the doctor. Not unlike many of you, I'm guessing, I have had injuries due to my life-long handling and dealing with horses but in most cases the injury heals itself and within a couple weeks I'm as good as new. On rare occasions, and I mean very rare, I get hurt and its elongated and doesn't heal with constant movement and working through it, this was and still is one of those times.

So, what did I miss? A hike and camping weekend at Grandfather Mountain. Seems menial when you read it doesn't it? And if I gave you facts like, the hike to the first campsite (on either side of Grandfather Mtn) is 2 miles with packs, you'd probably think "we'll that's nothing to miss". But what if the hike is not what I missed? I mean that's what I typed, that's what was going on, a 2 miles (that turned into a 3 mile) hike to a campsite, a windy hike to the peak of Grandfather and a long packing hike down, all in 2 days. Sounds exactly like what I missed....or was it? Maybe some background is needed. There was a group of friends who started a Venture Crew in Raeford, they were led by a married couple who was strong and directed to help these friends begin an adventure. One of the requirements for Venture Crewing, is the kids have to come up with, plan and make happen an adventure. Around 2 years or so ago, the crew started doing these adventures, I was blessed to take part in 2 of them. The one that I missed was their trip to Grandfather Mtn.  This crew of friends, as you may gather, included Kaleb and Thad. Last fall, as a memory trip, the group of us, family and friends, took the trip to Grandfather Mtn, only on the Daniel Boone side of Grandfather (the opposite side the crew camped on). This year, the plan was to take the trip on Profile the same trip that the crew took 2 years ago. I didn't go due to the injury, and last night for the first time really in 3 days, I got to talk to Penny. She expressed deeply she wished I was able to have gone, she likened the trip to none-less then a break through, and this is how she explained it.  "The trip was difficult, its very strenuous and the climb up was rocky and hard to maneuver. But the  trip down, was painful. Its extremely steep and the trek was focused only on getting from point A to point B while carrying a heavy weight. It was a break through for me because it was like what we have been going through the past year." She said I could be wordy and use this, and I hadn't planned on using it until this morning when I realize I had missed something. She likened the trip to our journey through the pain of loosing our sons, the strenuous trip of struggle going thru the Saturday we spent together at Cape Fear was pain that we didn't even know was going to become more painful than we had even begun to imagine. The days, months and years that have followed have been that treacherous downhill trip full of unforgiving pain, carrying a heavy weight, and the parking lot is far from in sight, even now.

When I realized this morning what I had missed, crying ensued (mostly because of what I missed and partially because of the steroids I'm on) and I turned to a most unlikely place for me, a devotional. Its funny to me how when I most need to hear something I most don't want it said. The devotional was short and talked of a journey today that was an obstacle in my way that I would be looking for a way around; at the end of the devotional was a scripture (as with every day), so I turned to that reading and found something else. Isaiah 35:8-10 "And a highway will be there, it will be called the Way of Holiness...no lion will be there, nor any ferocious beast will get on it, they will not be there. But only the redeemed will walk there and the ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion singing, everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away."  How I can not wait for that time of gladness and joy to return and to be overtaken by them. How I long for the sorry and sighing of this life to flee away. How long will that time be before it comes to pass?

There is nothing unusual or different about Isaiah from that trip that Penny and the family took this weekend, only the words would read like this: There is a mountainous trail, one that those who endure pain and suffering travel. And their footsteps are not clear and easy, the steps are difficult and some hidden. They dodge the ever so ferocious beasts that travels their trail and hides obstacles in their way. Tho the trail is difficult and painful, their feet are steady, their laughter returns and fills the air, their joy of memories and longing for peace fill the spaces as they trek to the next ridge. On the trail they have found that their feet are not their own, that the Lord has made their feet unwavering, that He has gone before them to move the beast from their path and He will lead them home. When I listened to Penny talk me through the experience I was glad to hear her words. Even though I missed the same things that Kaleb had experienced that weekend 2 yrs ago, and even more so, the break through of feeling as tho, eventually, the downhill trek will become easier and there is, just around the switchback, a plateau of leveling along the ridge. There have been those ridge walks, some longer than others and some to short to even realize that there was a ridge, but they have been there. But I missed the likening, the time to walk where the boys had walked, the knowing that eventually there is an end and a parking lot where I will get to go home.