Climbing Mission Peak

This past Friday night was the start of our youth group's student leadership mandatory hangout.
The goal: climb Mission Peak to watch the sun rise Saturday morning
Purpose: team-building

At 3:30am, the alarm rang. Time to get up! Ugh... I feel so tired. Eighteen people lined up to share 2 restrooms, eat breakfast, and then ready ourselves to face the morning cold. *deep sigh* A little past 5am, we start our hike. Frequently, we ran around shushing each other, hoping not to disturb the sleeping neighborhood as our excited voices carried in the quiet morning.

At first, I turn my flashlight on thinking I need light to see the path. Soon, I realized that even the quarter sliver of moon provided enough light to distinguish gravel path versus large black cow patties. Walking quietly through the dark, I look up and see stars! I haven't seen so many stars since I was little! In awe, I tried to walk while looking upwards. Occasionally, I would bump into a youth or stumble along the path's edge, depending on whoever was nearest to assist in navigating the black land mines. *wide grin*

Turning to look towards the city, I see clouds colored redish-pink from the bright city lights combined with pollution. In that area, I see no stars... The city lights are too bright. *sad face*

Climbing higher, I start to see the bay. As the sky brightens, pink turns to dusky purple. The sky appears to cast a dark blue shadow creeping ever lighter in color until I realize that all the stars are gone. When did that happen? *rubbing eyes*

A little later, about a third of the way up the mountain, I start to notice my lack of stamina. *grumble* on our way up, I actually had to call a halt more than twice because my body didn't want to keep up! I'm used to being in front of any hikes, running around exploring different views. Well, not this day! By the time we were halfway up the mountain, I was quietly panting. Every step felt weak and powerless... About every 100-200 feet, I would need to stop for 10-20 seconds to recover enough to plod on. On the steeper slopes, I would rest every 50 feet. Each step felt hard-won, each breath a controlled rasp. How much further? I'm so tired... Can I make it up? It'd be so embarrassing if I couldn't climb Mission Peak after I pushed so hard to have the whole youth leadership team climb the mountain at an insanely early hour.

Sweating, I take off my inner insulating jacket, take off my beanie, take off my gloves... *shiver*. The air is cold against my skin! The outter jacket feels icy as I put it on. Soon, I'm sweating again... My jacket doesn't feel cold anymore. In fact, I'm once again warm enough to walk with my jacket unzipped. Why did I wear so many layers? I feel stupid making everyone wear so much extra clothing.

Physically, I'm nowhere near the shape I need to be or want to be in while tackling Mission Peak... And yet, I can't give up either. As part of the leadership team, we all have to go up together, that's part of the challenge. Step by step, I struggle and fight my way up. I'm totally lagging behind, but what choice do I have? I've gotta make it up! Right foot step up. Left foot step up. Repeat. Repeat again... And again... and again. By now, I've totally fallen behind. Each step I pray for strength, pray that I don't hold the team back too much, pray that my muscles continue to quickly recover with each short break. Inside, I'm screaming with frustration... My body is so weak! I reach my hand out and Noel lightly tugs on my hand, providing just enough support so I can keep moving. This is so frustrating I want to cry... But what good will crying do? What good will screaming do? *shrug* I still have to climb.

Heavenly Father, thank you for placing different people by my side to help me climb up the mountain. Thank you for the times when I had a hand to hold, a backpack to grab (*smirk*), and different people to walk with me through my struggle uphill. Thank you for the pauses I had to take in which I could see your marvelous creations. Thank you for the beautiful pictures I could take because I had to pause for so many rest-breaks. Thank you for all the clothing every one had when we ate snacks, huddling like penguins in the freezing cold. Thank you for the beauty of the fog and the majesty revealed in your creations as the fog rolled away. Thank you that I got no blisters from wearing hiking shoes that were half a size too small. Thank you for the awesome view and the time given to appreciate even the dew drops hanging from a field of weeds. Thank you for an easy walk back down the mountain. Thank you that no one got hurt climbing the rocks. Thank you, God, for being my strength when I have none left.

In Jesus' name I praise my Father God in heaven for this opportunity to live, to struggle, to serve and be served, amen.