Over the long weekend my family decided to drive up and see other family in a nearby town. While there we grilled out, walked the shore of the lake and decided to drive a little further out and hike the gloss mountains. My husband and I grew up in the small town and surrounding countryside. The mountains were a place frequented with my son as a single mother – where we hiked and picnicked. After we married we continued the adventure with the three of us and our pooch. My girls however, have never experienced the pleasure of climbing and exploring the cliffs and mountains around the area, so we went.

Once we got there we quickly noted a few things had changed. The state had made it into a park. They added stairs to one side of the nearest mountain and roped off most of the rest with a few trails, added a covered pavilion and restrooms which we thought was purty neat! We gathered out supplies and headed out to climb. The first several feet weren’t too bad. We older folk learned quickly how out of shape we really were, but mustered on. Thankfully they had some built in spots to stop and take in the view before climbing further.

As we huffed and puffed and climbed I regaled the girls with tales of our old adventures. We neared the top only to realize the last several feet up were with no stairs only rock. Meaning we would have to use our hands and feet to move straight up and onto the plateau. My hubs reached the top first followed by my oldest daughter then me. I looked back thinking the youngest would soon be appearing only to realize she had frozen at the prospect of the climb letting go of the rail and going on without stairs.

She was stuck. Looking up shaking her head no at our encouragement to just try. No matter what we said, the insight we offered about how we did it or the encouragement to try we gave she would not budge. Fear was on her face and a readiness to retreat was on her mind. The last several feet, literally maybe 10 steps to the top was right before her. All she could see however, was the sheer verticalness of the climb not how close she really was. So her daddy climbed back down, talked with her and then began to coach her as she climbed until she reached the top.

How many times have we done that ourselves? Reached a point in our journey where the stairs end and the rail is gone and its a leap of faith or a step in trust until we get to the top? She said she just couldn’t let go of the rail knowing it was just rock to hang onto. So she needed a little help from her father to get unstuck. We too do the same. We know the top or the end is there yet feels so far away and so impossible to do on our own. Sometimes in those situations we need the face of the father; to encourage us, to talk to us and to come and assist us when all we can see is the face of the mountain before us.

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