Tip of My Iceberg

After eight weeks of preparing for and having our conference, it’s family vacation time.

We’re all ready for a break.

We’ve rented a large house in Breckenridge–all 23 of us have a bed. We’ve been playing, cooking, relaxing together for a few days.

While here, we needed to do what mountain people do.

Hike.

If I had my druthers, I’d take mountains over beach any day. Something about the constant changing landscape with the storms coming in or the sun shining makes for majestic beauty that’s always new. Hiking in the mountains gives a variety of experiences that are never the same.

The first hiking day, it rained off and on. Most of our group didn’t want to get wet (three kids under two made for challenges in climbing in mud). Courtney and Michael, Colorado people by address, took two grands and me on a damp and chilly adventure.

The weather kept more than my family indoors. Very few were out and about on the trail we chose. It was slippery, more than a little muddy and colder than I’d thought.

It was spectacular.

Rain dripped off wildflowers and trees like so many tears. The quiet with the lack of crowds was calming. There was opportunity to stop and look. To appreciate the vistas. To enjoy the differences between back home and this amazing place.

We stopped at a lake, watched seven baby ducklings freely swim far from their mother. Investigating their new world. Ethan and Teagan figured out how to rain on me as they shook young aspen saplings, flinging water everywhere. We were wet, muddy and laughing.

The next day, the sun was out. All but two of our family went on what was euphemistically called a family-friendly hike.

The trail was packed.

Hikers converged on this site, and we became part of the mob. We had littles in backpacks. Some walked fast, others slower as we were strung along the route.

It was rocky and slippery with the large number of hikers. Much louder. The sun was brilliant, reflecting off waterfalls and lakes.

Ethan, Sydney and Teagan reached the waterfalls first, with me right behind. They chose to climb the boulders to the top of the falls. I followed.

Never seeing the sign for the trail.

They made it to the top, and I was about six feet below them when Ramsay came up telling them their mom said they had to come down.

He meant me, too.

Going down was a lot harder than going up.

Same activity; two different days. Two completely different experiences.

Both outstanding.

This is the Christian life. Following Jesus is no guarantee that life will be smooth and easy. That problems will disappear like smoke. Our stories make for different experiences. Our circumstances are like the changing weather–impacting our walks with Jesus. He is the God for the masses, but He’s the Lord of each of us as individuals.

No matter what our circumstances, He promises to stay present with us when we’re in relationship with Him. He provides the power to live in hope.

No matter what the weather.

The journey matters. Every day. Choosing to see Him in the details.

That’s a hike worth taking.