The Mountain

Standing on a mountaintops, gazing in awe and wonder at the immensity of the view before my eyes.

Up to this point, my view while climbing the mountain has been one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, only seeing what's closest to me.  Birds, trees, tiny plants on the path; the tiny microcosm of my existence at the moment.

The higher I climb, I can catch glimpses of a larger view.  A clearing brings an opening into a slightly bigger picture than where I am.

Briefly, the perspective changes.  Step after step, I can see not where I am, but what's beyond.  My focus is no longer on my steps in front of me, the rocks in my path, the sweat dripping down my spine.
The source of my breathlessness changes...it's no longer from the physical exertion; it's from the realization that something much much bigger is at work here.
     There's so much more than what I see!  There's so much more TO experience out there!!

The reminder is temporary as the path takes me back into the cover of my own travels.

My mind tries to process, to comprehend.

As I focus my thoughts on the "big-ness" of what I've just seen, it keeps my mind busy, distracted from the minutia of my own path, my walk, my hike.

Before I realize it, I've traveled farther than expected.  Because my focus wasn't on me, or what was happening around me, the journey to the mountaintop ended up being much quicker, less painful.

And once I get there, I can now see the even bigger picture.  The one where you can't get any higher.

I can look down and see how my hike got me here.  I can also see how other's hikes have gotten them to this peak, or even to other peaks.

WOAH.

I have to rest here a while.  Take it all in...

I realize sometime later that I have to go back down the mountain, back to my life, the everyday.

The journey back down shows the same views; the same points on the journey that the focus is on just where I'm at, and other points where I can get the broader view.

But this time it's different.  I can now see all these points on the journey through the lens of a goal:  to share this journey, and all I've learned on the journey, with others.

     People who don't think this kind of journey could be for them.
     People who don't think they can do it.
     People who are on their own journey, maybe stuck in the thickets with blinders on to the
              grander views.
     People on their journey who may not want to leave the place of the grander views, but
              haven't seen what it's like from the top.

I have to share this journey, every bit of it.

From the start:  a decision, then one foot in front of the other.

The tough spots, where rocks and obstacles try their best to hold me back.

The alone places, in the middle of the forest, with no end in sight.

The joyous places.  When the unexpected happens.  Birds singing at odd times.  Or the whinny of wild horses.

To the moments that take your breath away.  When the trees break open, if only for a moment, to show that this isn't the only mountain in the range.

And the view from the top?  Well, that's indescribable.
    How you feel so big and so small, all at the same time.
    How you perspective is forever changed there.

And from then on, the hike always beckons.

A Letter to my Boy

You just turned thirteen.  I figured I'd better write this now, while I still like you.

You, son, amaze me.  Watching you grow. 

Maybe it's a blessing you don't live with me and your dad every day.  We see you every few days, and it gives me time to truly miss you, to appreciate you more, to really notice you.
To watch you develop your own personality; to see little inklings of the future you popping out...a little here, a little there. 
To see what you struggle with, and to notice that some of it isn't changing as you get older.
Those few years you spent refining your sense of humor - priceless.  I still laugh at some of those exchanges.  You are still, by far, one of the funniest people on this earth.
The way your brain works reminds me of your father.  Your ambition comes from your mother.  Your heart reminds me of me.
You were, and still are, my favorite wedding gift.
You have weaseled your way into one of the top spots of the most influential people in my life.

You've taught me how to encourage.  You've taught me how to not just layer blanket praise, but to seek out strengths and build on those.  To notice every good thing, instead of just one thing.  You've taught me a patience that is definitely a work-in-progress.  You've become my friend, my partner in crime, my fellow adventurer, my exploring sidekick, my creative co-conspirator, and my comic relief.

But most of all, you've taught me how to love in a way I never understood, and never would have, had you not been brought into my life.

I am stopped dead in my tracks at how much of a man you are sometimes.  You have wisdom and maturity that go beyond your years.  The beauty is that you're not hindered in any way, shape, or form by the experiences of life that bring most people to that point, or the crippling fear that usually accompanies.
That's why I've learned to keep laughing at the moments in between:
  when you make your weird noises,
  when you can't seem to make a complete sentence,
  when you're standing on a flimsy plastic chair in the middle of a gravel driveway trying to
    shoot a pine cone out of a tree with a BB gun on a windy day,
  when you grab the dog's jaws and open them wide and yell into her cavernous mouth,
  when you don't pick up your socks/ shoes/ coat/ book bag/ homework/ candy wrappers/
     pencils/ dirty clothes/ hats/ football/ slingshot,
  when I find BBs and pellets EVERYWHERE,
  when you get into farting contests with your dad and the dog,
  and my FaVoRiTe, talking with food in your mouth (spoken through clenched teeth).

I love watching you watch other people; taking in every single person you meet.  I love hearing about your adventures (& misadventures) at school...you're handling it so much better than I did.  Your confidence, that you completely pay no attention to, speaks to people around you.  The lives you speak into every single day are changed, just because of who you are.  You are genuine, caring, and loyal.

I love that your favorite movies are Machine Gun Preacher, Shooter, and Boondock Saints, and that your favorite book, so far, is Grizzly Adams.

One of my favorite stories you told me was how you almost got into a fight at school, because some kids were picking on your friend in a wheelchair.  You fought tears even in telling me the story.
Yeah, dude.  My heart EXPLODED with pride that day.

I don't ever want you to lose that. 
I don't ever want you to be afraid.  I don't want you to ever quit caring about people.  I don't ever want you to quit giving every single person you meet the best of you, of your heart.  I don't ever want you to quit standing up for what's right.

My prayers for you are a little out of the ordinary, but so am I.  So is your dad.  So are you.
(Besides, life's more fun that way.)

I pray adventure for you.
I pray you see amazing things in this lifetime.  I pray you see more of this beautiful planet than we have.  I pray you see breath-taking sights, eat exotic foods, live in other cultures, and learn to appreciate the beauty in humanity.  I pray you experience people who live in true community, and I pray you experience people who are shunned, hurt, poor, hungry, homeless, grieving.  It is with them that your eyes will be opened.

I pray you experience hard times.  Hard times are what refine us, they scrape away all the crap we surround ourselves with, what we cushion our security with.  I pray that in those hard times, you grow closer and closer to God.

I pray you experience true joy.  Joy that cannot be taken away, a peace that fills your every day.  Deep down, you know where this comes from.  (wink wink)

I pray you are free-spirited enough to follow your heart, no matter where it takes you, and that amazing brain keeps you focused on what's important in this life, on what's True.

Speaking of that brain of yours, I pray you stay hungry for knowledge.  Keep learning about what interests you; there's always opportunity to learn more.  But knowledge is a gift, and the best gifts are always shared.

 I pray for courage, that you remain courageous.  And in order for you to be courageous, you'll have to be in situations that require you to be courageous.  I have to accept this, if I want my boy to be a man someday.  Don't worry, I'll get over it...eventually...

I pray that your faith grows strong, and remains strong.  However that has to happen.

I pray you make mistakes.  (Lord, not the kind of mistakes we made, pleeeeeeese....)  The kind of mistakes you learn from, you grow from.  The ones you walk away from, or come out of, changed.

I pray you love others.  Recklessly, unashamed, wholeheartedly.  "Like you love yourself".  And pay attention to what happens.

I love seeing how Jesus lives through you, a willing heart.  And it's not even in ways you're aware of.  It's because of your humility. Please keep that.  I am beyond excited to see where life takes you, and how the world changes wherever you go.

I love you buddy, more than you'll ever know.  I thank God for the beautiful wonderful gift you are in my life, and pray that you have that effect on everyone you meet. 
Enjoy this life, enjoy every moment.  Your parental influences are ones of adventure, justice, and compassion.  Embrace them all.

Now.  Let's get to work on cleaning that room of yours, okay?