Reflections on the climb

Up-Hill
by Christina Rossetti

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.


But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.


Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.


Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.


I´ve said in earlier posts that somehow I find the words of others more fitting and more moving than my own when I´m trying to express some profound sentiment. Most of the climb up the Pico Duarte I was thinking about the above poem of Christina Rosetti. In reality, the road up the mountain was, indeed, uphill all the way. It did indeed take the whole long day -- from morn to night. As it was for Rosetti, my own physical journey was metaphor for the spiritual journey. Some reflections then:

1. It ain´t easy. In 21st century USA we seem to have developed a sense that life should be easy, smooth, and problem-free. Maybe it´s because we have found so many ways to protect ourselves from the physical difficulties and discomforts of this world -- we are accustomed to heat in the winter, air conditioning in the summer, ample food when we are hungry (and when we are not), closets full of clothing to choose in whatever weather or season, cars and trains and planes and buses to transport us from one place to another without the effort of walking long distances.
Try as we might to avoid the reality: the road winds uphill. The way is steep and rocky. Sometimes the exertion is arduous, and seems more than we can bear. Here in this country I have been aware, every day, of how much steeper the way is for the average journeyer in the Dominican Republic. So many have little to shield them from the difficulties of life. Some collapse along the way, and give up, because the exertion is too great. But some manage to continue, finding the strength and the determination to put one foot in front of the other.

2. You need a guide. Joel and Rocelio knew the way to the top of the mountain. They loved their work, and counted it a joy to be able to be on the journey to such a remarkable place. Both were confident, sure-footed, and strong. And they watched out for me, doing their best to keep me on the path. And at the point when I was injured, they showed genuine concern.
Such is the spiritual life, too. All who walk the uphill way of the journey in Christ need guides. I have been so blessed to have so many guides and companions on the journey -- guides who have been sure-footed, confident, and strong when I have been weak. I hope and pray that I have been so to those entrusted to my care.

3. Sometimes you need a mule. I doubt that I could have ever have made it to the summit without the aid of Paloma. Although she had something of a mind of her own, in the long run she knew her job and she did it. Without complaint, without asking questions. When I couldn´t walk, she did the walking for me. When I couldn´t carry my own weight, she carried me.
We are so used to being independent, free agents, we forget that we can´t do it all, and we can´t do it all the time. And to be carried by the mule was not a passive endeavor anyway. I had to learn how to shift my weight to counterbalance her movements -- when to lean forward, and when to lean back. And I needed to learn to hold on and trust the instincts of the pack animal.
I am grateful for so many who have carried my weight, when I could not go any further. They are hard working, faithful servants who uncomplainingly, without asking questions, forge ahead, seeking only the most meager of rewards.

4. There is beauty along the way. It wasn´t just the sunrise on the mountaintop that was inspiring. There were flowers along the steepest places in the path. There was the song of wild parrots in the distance, and the tapping of woodpeckers above. There were breathtaking vistas of mountains and valleys. There were remarkable sights, like giant ferns.
So often, when I´m forging ahead, putting one foot in front of the other, I forget to pause for a moment, and notice the beauty around me: the love of friends and family, the sight of some natural wonder, the joy of accomplishment. It is not just the arrival that matters, it is the way itself that matters.

5. It´s important to take care of yourself along the way. Climbing the mountain, arduous as it was, did include moments of rest. We stopped to eat, to catch our breath, and to sleep. Without these moments of refreshment and relaxation, as brief as they might have been, the climb would have been sheer drudgery.
God has blessed me, and the congregation I serve has been generous to provide this period of sabbatical rest for me. But I need to learn a rhythm of work and rest that allows me to take care of myself daily, weekly, monthly, yearly, and not just for a longer time once every 7 years.

AMDG