Summer 2016 comes to a close with new beginnings and possibilities like every year, but this year includes unfamiliar sadness. The final weekend of summer hits immediately after leaving our daughter on a college campus and driving home without her. We just left her there! In addition to a heavy weight of sadness, there's a sense of rejoicing--- "We did it!" We raised that loving, beautiful young lady now exploring possibilities and dreams on her own. It feels something like a mountain top high, but it comes after the intensity and exhaustion of the final steps climbing the peak, where your heart hurts from the altitude and your legs give out from the steep incline.
Every year we spend the dog days of summer in our beloved Crested Butte. One of our annual traditions is to climb the peak of the Butte. However, due to a tragic death on the mountain, the Oliphints decided not to climb this year. For some odd reason, I have a huge desire to complete this annual event, so I tagged along with my brother's family. Being crazy scared of heights and with such great exposure on the peak, I've come to believe if I can tackle that mountain each year, I can handle anything the Lord brings into my life during the following months. While hiking at a fast pace, completely out of breath and above tree line, we were told to turn back due to storms in the area. I was not able to reach the peak this year. It hit me on this brief hike and others of incline in the area that a "mountain top high" only comes after the effort and pain of the journey. I've always thought of the high being one of peace and joy. However, it is in the valley where there is rest. You can hike at leisure with no need for exertion. Summer felt like a hike through a quiet valley. I am renewed and ready to start the climb of another school year.
Being in the mid-to-late : ( forties, I've noticed a growing difficulty with breathing while on the mountain. During one of many needed stops, in the heat of the day, I stepped into the cleft of a rock needing shade. This was a visual reminder to me of the protection that comes from the Lord as the good shepherd of our souls. While I am heartbroken by the absence of our daughter at home, I know she is where the Lord will do great things in her life. She will experience the intensity of reaching peaks on her own and the rest that comes from hiding herself in the Lord's goodness, whether in the midst of the climb or in the valley. To stick with the hiking analogy, we filled her backpack with all the necessary supplies and we even drove her to the trailhead. Now, she walks with the Lord. All praise and thanksgiving to God for allowing us the incredible joy and privilege of raising Katie Belle Oliphint, because we know she will be used for good and for His glory!
