the good, the bad, but the beautiful: Hands Wide Open

It's been a pretty non-stop, chaotic, stressful, painful, and scary few months.

Those seasons in life where you look up into the clouds and ask their Maker when you'll get a break. Sometimes, it's all too easy to forget that I'm not owed something just because I persevere through the challenges. I already received all I need the day that Jesus found me. Anything extra apart from His heart beating inside of mine and His grace leading me through each day is a special and unexpected blessing-- not something I can earn.

Last week I climbed Pikes Peak by foot. 799 staircases, 17.2 miles, up to 14,115 feet above the clouds. Definitely one of the hardest things I've ever done. Sun poisoning, altitude sickness, fainting from lack of oxygen, pounding headache, dehydration, and overall exhaustion made for a very trying climb. I may have cried a few tears.

But I learned something very difficult around mile 8:

With every step I was looking forward to flat ground eventually, every new mile I awaited an "easy" part of the climb, my thought process often went something like this: "Well, I just need to push through THIS steep & rocky mile with everything I have no matter how much I want to give up because then I'm sure I'll see some level ground and my body will have a break."

I realized how much that thinking was doing terrible things for my endurance. Because the following mile ended up being way HARDER than the previous. Less oxygen, less energy, less hydration, less coherency, less strength. The more that I awaited the a future"easy", the more challenging the present "hard" became. Because I gave it all I had and was completely empty by the end of that mile and didn't want to keep going onto the next.

I saw how much that was like life. Pushing hard through each challenge waiting for God to bring my "well-deserved break". And every time it didn't come, I would measure my endurance and assume I wasn't doing something good enough or trying hard enough.

But that's not what God asks of us is it? To try and try and try until we're out of oxygen and furious we have breathing problems. We took away our own oxygen. God never stole it from us. It's this "let's just get this over with" attitude that steals away our joy, our purpose, and our patience in the storm.

While we say "Let's just get this over with already."

God says: "Let's take our time and just walk this out together no matter how long it takes."

Patiently taking one step at a time creates something inside of us that we will never find if we're sprinting past each step: a closer walk with the Spirit in our hearts, an ability to patiently endure amidst our weakness, and eyes to clearly see the purpose intricately painted upon each step.

It seems much less overwhelming when you take one step at a time. And that's how God designed it. His yoke is easy and light-- I'll say that again: His yoke is EASY and His burden is LIGHT. He doesn't require for us to reach the top at a certain time, He just asks us to let Him walk with us in our journey.

A song that has totally changed my life and been God's anthem over me in this season goes like this:

"I lean not on my own understanding; My life is in the hands of the Maker of Heaven.

I give it all to you God; trusting that You'll make something beautiful out of me.

I will climb this mountain with my hands wide open.
There's nothing I hold onto."

I thought about those words during my hike. And especially in my life. With clenched, exhausted fists that are yearning to find eventual rest, God can't put anything into my palms as I climb. But with hands wide open, He can freely pour His strength and His joy inside of me.

He tells me I can rest AS I climb if only I don't view each step as something to get done and over with; but instead as something beautiful He can use my open hands to create. And let's be honest, He is the Maker of Heaven-- the designer of the stars, the Author of the sunsets-- there is no other Teacher I would rather entrust my canvas to except for Him.