Was that you, God?

So, I hopped in the car and started the drive home. As would be expected, I turned on the radio to listen to the Phillies game. They were playing the Colorado Rockies on this particular evening. As I mentioned in my last post, I was a bit frustrated with and rather pessimistic about the 2007 Phillies at this point. I don't remember all the particulars anymore, but I do remember that the Phillies were losing the game when I turned it on.

I don't recall how long I had listened or what exactly happened, but I was frustrated enough (my general mood given the meeting I had just come from probably wasn't helping) to turn the game off. As I was continuing to drive up the road, grumbling about the Phillies in my head (and quite possibly aloud), just knowing this was going to be another year when they fell short, the words "Don't lose hope" suddenly came into my head. It's really hard to describe what was going on here, but it just completely felt like something that was coming from outside of my own thoughts and musings, like someone else was entering the conversation. Was this God speaking to me?

You have to understand something here - up until about the last year, I had very minimal confidence in my ability to hear from God, at least on my own. On the rare occasions where I was willing to believe God was speaking to me, I would invariably preface it with "I'm not really someone who hears from God" or some variation on that theme. So, for me to quickly tag something as a potential word from God, especially in what was a very "non-spiritual" context, it had to have grabbed my attention pretty significantly.

One thing I immediately understood - if this was, in fact, a word from God, He wasn't just talking to me about the Phillies. I mean, maybe God is a big baseball fan, but I was pretty sure if He was giving me a message, the real point was about the other subject of the evening - Lynn. I believed He was telling me not to lose hope for Lynn, and that the Phillies were his way of confirming it.

Perhaps now you might understand one of the reasons why I've kept this under my hat to a large degree? To this day, it still seems a bit out there, even to me, and I lived it. Needless to say, I was skeptical. Along with my general skepticism about my ability to hear from God, there was the simple matter that I've always, and continue to be to this day, very cautious when I feel like I hear something from God that is what I know I really want - because it's not particularly easy to be objective in these cases. I mean, let's evaluate what I felt like I was hearing from God here - that my good friend was going to be healed from a fatal disease, and that my favorite baseball team was going to finally make the playoffs. There's not much question that's something I could dream up. And let's be realistic, the Phillies were right in the wild card hunt - as much as my past memories told me otherwise, making the playoffs was still a pretty strong possibility.

Still not really knowing what to think, I turned the radio back on and listened as the Phillies came back and won that particular game. As I got home, I determined to file the events of the evening away, taking a "wait and see" approach. I mean, after all, in a few weeks I would know if the Phillies made the playoffs or not, and if they didn't, there wasn't much more to be considered.

Some context

In my last post I told you to remember the fact that Lynn and I were both Phillies fans, because it would be important later. Well, in order to put this part of the story in proper context, I have to give provide a mini-history of the Phillies themselves. It's something else to be writing this out only hours before the Phillies open up the World Series against the Yankees, seeking to win their second straight championship.

The Philadelphia Phillies baseball team is one of the oldest professional sports teams in the US, with a history that goes back well over 100 years. They've been around for a long time, and for most of that history, they've been, well, pretty bad. Earlier that summer, the Phillies had suffered their 10,000th loss as a franchise. Actually, I missed being at that game by one night because they won when I was there. When the Pittsburgh Pirates finished off their 17th consecutive losing season in 2009, they set a major league record, wiping the Phillies record of 16 from the books. People make a big deal these days about how the Cubs have gone 101 years without winning a World Series, they made a big deal about how the Red Sox went 86 years in between championships. The Phillies had a similar run at the beginning of their history, going 77 years before winning their first, and as of the summer of 2007, their only, championship.

That happened in 1980, when I was about 6 months old. They made it back to the World Series in 1983 before losing to the Orioles, but by the time I was old enough to start being a fan, they were pretty much back into their historic pattern of ugliness. In fact, from the time I can remember following them through 2000, every season, with one notable exception, ended with more Phillies losses than wins. The exception, 1993, was glorious, right up until the point when it ended in the World Series, with Joe Carter's series ending home run off of Mitch Williams in Game 6.

In 2001, there was a shift. The Phillies went from being terrible every year, to being good, but not quite good enough, year in, and year out. Every year between 2001 and 2006 (with the exception of 2002, when they only won 80), the team won at least 85 games, and in most of those years they finished agonizingly close to a playoff spot, just missing out in the final days of the season. I'm honestly not sure what was harder on me as a fan - when they were just terrible, or when they were always getting my hopes up only to dash them.

2007 was shaping up to be another one of those "good, but not good enough" years, and early September had been particularly frustrating. The team had won 4 straight from the archrival Mets at the end of August to close within a very manageable 2 games behind in the division. However, by September 10th, the day of our meeting, they had managed to give all 4 of the games that they had picked up back with a rough stretch of play that had corresponded with a Mets hot streak. They were only a couple games back in the wild card, but I just wasn't very impressed in general, and while I refused to give up completely, I was resigning myself to yet another season that would end in a frustrating near-miss, with no postseason for the 14th straight year.

So, anyhow, that's what was going on with the Phillies as our meeting broke up that night and I said my goodbyes. As I was about to walk out to my car, Lynn suggested I could go in the house and see if that night's game was on TV. I declined, as I needed to get started on the hour drive home, and I could listen to the game on the radio in the car. As I declined, I threw out an offhand comment, paralleling our Phillies to the word of the evening: "Yeah, speaking of not losing hope..." Lynn and I both chuckled about it knowingly, and I headed out to my car.

A loss of hope...

And so, after yet another lengthy hiatus, I am back. And I have a story to tell. I make no promises about how long it will take me to tell it, because I know that only gets me in trouble...

Much of this story happened over 2 years ago, and much of it I have never shared with more than a handful of people who are particularly close to me, or particularly close to the situation. This is for reasons that are my own, and which may become clear as I go along. I choose to share it more publically now, for reasons which are also my own, and which also may become clear as I go along. Have I piqued your curiosity yet?

Anyhow, I have written at various times over the last few years on this blog about my dear friend Lynn, who spent several years serving God in Thailand, and whose team I went on trips to support in 2007 and 2008. I've also mentioned that he is currently suffering from ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease, a degenerative nuerological disease in which, simply put, the brain gradually loses the ability to communicate with the rest of the body. There is no medical cure for ALS, and as such, it is fatal.

It was in late summer of 2007, while Lynn and his family were back in the US on home ministry, when I first heard the term "ALS" in connection with Lynn. The diagnosis wasn't official at this point, but it was what the doctors were strongly suspecting. I got an e-mail that Lynn sent out to some of his core support team with this news in it one day while I still was at work, and it was all I could do not to burst into tears in the middle of my office. I was stunned, especially since I didn't even know Lynn had been having the health difficulties that had led him to see the doctors in the first place. Needless to say, it was very difficult to finish off the day at work, but I got through it.

Oddly enough, I was going to be seeing Lynn in a few days. In the way of background, one commonality that Lynn and I share as friends is our love of the Phillies. We came by it in different ways - Lynn's entire family on his Dad's side are Phillies fans, stemming back to Lynn's paternal grandmother. (That's right, I said grandmother.) I, on the other hand, am first generation. My parents are both Phillies fans, but they got it from me, not the other way around. I'm not particularly sure why I'm a Phillies fan. I just always remember loving baseball, and that the Phillies were the first team I encountered. Anyhow, having gotten that little piece of information out the way (remember it, it will be important later), Lynn and I had planned a couple months before to attend that Friday night's Phillies game together. We had 5 1/2 or so hours in the car ahead of us, and one of the topics had obviously already been set.

I remember that car ride like it was yesterday. I spent much of the trip down uncomfortably babbling on about the many thoughts that had been running through my head over the few days between the news and the game. Much of my ramblings centered around my theology of healing - that God can and does heal, but doesn't always, and how whether Lynn lived or died I believed God would work good in it and bring glory to Himself, and advance His kingdom in Thailand. There was other stuff, but it was pretty much all variations on that theme. I kept running my mouth to the point where later in the car ride Lynn called me out for it, and let me know that I needed to work on my listening skills. Tough love, but he was right. Listening isn't always my best skill to begin with, and it can get really bad when I get uncomfortable.

I was uncomfortable because, the truth of the matter was this - I had basically conceded Lynn's life. Despite my belief in God's power to heal, when I had seen those letters "ALS", I had already made the determination, whether I would have admitted it to myself or not, that Lynn was going to die from this illness and whatever work God was going to do in this situation wasn't going to include healing. Why? I'm still not 100% sure to this day, but it will probably make more sense as I get further along. The simple fact of the matter was that I was fixated on the physical reality that was right in front of me, and defining God's work on the basis that this diagnosis, which was absolutely real, was the final word, and something that God was going to have to work within the boundaries of. Even though my "head" view of God allowed for a miraculous healing, my "heart" view of things had already ruled it out.

A little over 3 weeks later, on September 10th, I was gathered with Lynn, his wife Amy, and the rest of their core support team at Lynn's parents' house (where they were staying while on home ministry) for a team meeting. This was to have been our last meeting before Lynn and Amy returned to Thailand on September 12th, a return that was now on indefinite delay due to the medical situation. Obviously, there was only one subject on everyone's hearts.

As we gathered, Lynn began to share how God had given him the word that his sickness was not unto death, as in the story of Lazarus in John 11. Obviously, given where my heart was at, this was rather difficult for me to accept, and I approached it with requisite skepticism. "Of course that's what he heard, that's what he wanted to hear." and other variations on that theme were playing in my mind. I was hoping against hope that he was right, but really not believing that he was, for the most part.

As he continued to share, he spoke about the kind of people he wanted to have around him and supporting him in this time - people that wouldn't lose hope. Do you think that didn't drill right into my heart? I had completely lost hope and given Lynn up for dead from the minute I got that e-mail. Heck, the diagnosis wasn't even final yet - but that hadn't stopped me. I remember tearing up, wishing I could feel differently, but not finding it my heart to do so.

We ended the formal part of the meeting by gathering around Lynn and Amy and praying for them. As we prayed, my heart was moved and I prayed aloud, confessing that I had lost hope, and also claiming a willingness to trust Lynn, to trust in what he believed God was saying to him. And you know what, as I prayed that, I felt a release, and I believed that I could do it, that I could trust in what God was saying to Lynn. And maybe I could have, maybe that would have been enough (probably not). However, because of the events that followed, starting immediately after that meeting, I never really had a chance to find out.

Favre-palooza

Well, since the whole of the national sports media has been "All Favre, all the time" since Brett Favre's game winning touchdown pass in yesterday's Vikings/49er game, I thought I would join the parade. And so, allow me to share my personal favorite Brett Favre moment.

It was the 2003 NFC Divisional playoff game between Favre's Packers and the Philadelphia Eagles. A very exciting game had led to overtime. The Eagles won the toss and elected to receive, but after a 3 and out, the ball, and thus, the game, was in Brett Favre's hand. On the first play of the series, Favre dropped back, looked down the field, and gave the ball a mighty heave. It soared majestically down the field, until it came down, into the waiting arms of... Eagles safety Brian Dawkins - with no Packer within 20 yards of him and the ball. Dawkins ran the ball back 35 yards to the Packer 35, the Eagles drove 20 more yards and then kicked the game winning field goal to advance to the NFC title game.

If you remember that game, or are aware of my affinity for Philadelphia sports teams, you probably saw that coming. I bring it up for two reasons: First, because it really is a fun memory, and second, because I've been wondering for the last 24 hours plus when exactly it was that the media at large lost all sense of perspective on Favre.

Now, I am not a Favre-hater. In fact, there was a period in Favre's career where I would probably have ranked him as one of my favorite players that didn't play for my favorite team. I get why people liked him. He was an immense talent, had a seemingly very "every man", down to earth demeanor, and he played the game with passion and with a gunslinger's mentality that everyone who has dreamed of NFL glory while playing in a pick up game in the backyard can relate to. He was an excellent quarterback, one of the absolute best in the game in his prime, and enjoyed a good deal of success. He merited attention.

At some point, however, this thing got way out of control. I'd love to blame the president of the media's Favre fanboy club, John Madden, but he was only the most obvious culprit. At some point Favre almost became bigger than the game, and his flaws as a player (which certainly existed) were routinely whitewashed while his successes were overemphasized. The story I started with is a perfect example - in addition to making a lot of incredibly positive game-changing plays, it wasn't that uncommon for him to hurt his team's chances with an unnecessary risk or poor decision. That was the downside of having his talent and his mentality - he always believed he could make a throw. There's a reason he's the NFL's all-time leader in touchdown passes, and also interceptions. He did cutdown on the latter in his prime, but not at all entirely.

At this point in his career, and after all the years of "will he/won't he" around his retirement status, Favre is still being assigned a place in the game, that, in my opinion, he doesn't deserve and never really did. The man was great, in all but the strictest definitions of the term, but let's not get crazy. He played a substantial portion of his career alongside 3 quarterbacks who I wouldn't hestitate to rank ahead of him in the NFL pantheonon of greatness in Elway, Brady, and Peyton Manning, and alongside several others (Young, Aikman quickly come to mind) who certainly are in the same neighborhood as he. At present, he has to show for his efforts exactly one Super Bowl win, ranking him alongside such lumanaries of the game as Trent Dilfer and Brad Johnson, and one loss to Elway. He also has, alongside those, a few catastrophic meltdowns like the one I opened this thread with that sent his teams to the golf course.

And yet, one game-winning TD pass, in the 3rd game of the season, and it's wall to wall Brett-mania on ESPN. Almost completely lost in the euphoria has been the fact that Favre's pass would have been for naught had the less than Pro Bowl caliber wideout Greg Lewis not made one of the better catches you'll ever see in the very back of the end zone. In fact (and I chastise people all the time for building arguments around "if" statements that really can't be proven wrong, so I apologize for this), I'm guessing that if all but 2 other active quarterbacks (Brady and P. Manning being the other) had thrown the ball, the headlines would have been talking about a game-winning catch, rather than a game winning pass. However, as a point of support, when referencing the end of last year's Super Bowl, do people more often refer to Ben Roethlisberger's winning pass, or Santonio Holmes' winning catch?

Anyhow, I wish Brett Favre the best, and he has been excellent this season by any reasonable measure. I just wish that the media would allow us all to appreciate Favre for what he is and was, without the need to hyperbolize and hero worship.

It was an accident, I swear

So, something happened to me recently - something that I very much did not plan on. In fact, as the title suggests, I would go so far as to say it happened by accident. After years and years of avoiding it like the plague, I woke up and realized that I, in fact, am leading an all-around healthy lifestyle. How could this possibly happen "by accident", you ask? Well, let me break it down for you, in chronological order of the several, mostly unconnected events.

#1 - Dramatically cutting back on soda consumption: I had, over the last several months, gotten to the point where I was consuming far more soda than I would prefer. It was easy for me to think this was not the case, because I rarely buy and keep a supply of soda at home. The issue was the trips to the vending machine at work. I was pretty much always having a soda with lunch, and quite often would have another at some point in the day. One day in early August, a co-worker made a point of saying how she could always count on seeing a Mt. Dew at my desk when she came by (she was not meaning anything by it, she's apparently the same way). That was a "Wow" moment, for one thing. Also, the vending machines at my work aren't exactly value price, and while a dollar or two every day doesn't seem like much, it adds up and I was looking at ways to save money. Also about this same time, I noticed the existance of G2 powder packets for use in a bottle of water. I've gone all water at work several times before, but I always slip up because I just need some flavor. G2 has enough flavor to keep me from running to the vending machine, has considerably less sugar, and actually has some positive health value to it, and at about 35 cents for a 500 ml bottle as opposed to 75 cents for a 12 ounce can of soda, the price is right. So, pretty quickly, I dropped from 1 or 2 sodas a day to 1, maybe 2 a week.

#2 - Actually cooking for myself more, less fast food, frozen pizza and Hot Pockets: The thing about this one is, I like to cook, and I like to eat actual cooking even more :) Ever since I've been on my own, I've gone in and out of spells where I am doing a lot of cooking. Around the same time as I cut down on soda, I decided it was time to get serious about cooking again. This was also aided by the end of church softball season, which is an all-consuming sort of thing over the summer (or at least it has been, but I don't intend for it to be again) which gave me a more regular, relaxed schedule. Cooking for myself really isn't that much of a time/effort thing. I have a (now increasing number) of recipes that I really like and that are fairly minimal in their preparation, and since it's just me, I typically only have to actually cook once every 4 days or so. It's funny, when I was a kid living at home, and my mom was doing the cooking leftovers were a drag. Now, given the alternative, having leftovers of a nice recipe for dinner is something of a treat. This one was also a cost saver as well.

#3 - Regular morning exercise - You'll recall my Half Dome story - how I talked about how out of shape I was, how I didn't make it to the top, and how I have designs on going back someday and making it all the way. Now, I personally believe that, even in the condition that I was in, knowing what I know now and actually having the internal desire to complete the hike, I could go back and make it to the top. However, I have no designs on leaving that assumption to chance. So, even though I have no formal plans at this point to head back up Half Dome any time soon, the edict was out there to get in better shape. There was also a cost issue here - I was reaching the limits of the waistlines on some of my pants, and really didn't want to lay out the cash for bigger replacements :) Anyhow, I have an elliptical and had tried to get into an exercise routine right after I got home from California, but I was doing it in the evenings and with softball, it was just difficult to get into any kind of plan. So, a few weeks after softball ended, I was trying to figure out how I was going to stay with an exercise routine. I had had a similar problem with spending daily time with God a few months ago. My solution: Get up early and do it first thing in the morning. That had worked really well, so, I bit the bullet and decided to get up an additional 30 minutes early each morning and hop on the elliptical. This had an unintended side benefit: making me much more awake and alert for my time with God! Ever since the move to the morning, I had struggled with nodding off from time to time. Not an issue after 30 minutes on the elliptical!

#4 - Better hydration, more balanced diet: Okay, the first 3 were pretty much unconnected, but this one was pretty much a case of, well, I've come this far, might as well go all the way. The hydration thing came first - I was already drinking the G2 at work, and of course I wanted to make sure I was drinking with my morning workouts. So, getting into a much better routine of taking in water during the evening just seemed to follow. And, while I was pretty sure I wouldn't have to do anything with my diet to lose weight once I started exercising, there was this sense "I'm getting up at 5:00 am to do this exercise thing, why would I want to completely work against myself when I'm eating". Now, let's be clear - I'm not "on a diet". There's nothing that I've cut out or won't eat now. I'm not counting calories, carbs, etc. Rather than trying to cut out "bad" things, my focus as been on eating more "good" things THAT I LIKE - having the morning OJ, packing carrots and fruit with my lunches, taking a granola/fiber bar along for a snack at work (heading off another vending machine expense), eating apples (honeycrisp apples MIGHT be the greatest snack ever), having more fruits and vegetables with my meals at home. So, while the intent hasn't necessarily been to eat less, cut down on calories, I'm pretty sure I have (I've been snacking less due to fuller meals), and I'm certainly eating better.

#5 - Evening walks - This was another one that kind of followed from everything else, and also from the fact that I have a dog that certainly isn't hurt by taking long walks. I wanted to get in some extra, low intensity activity in the evenings, I'd been thinking for a while that I should be walking Chaser more, and there you go. I've been trying to get at least a 15 minute walk in with Chaser for the last couple weeks, longer when there's no threat of rain.

So there it is - that's how I started living healthy "by accident". Now, I could obviously fall out of this all tomorrow, but I've been at most of this for several weeks now, and quite honestly, am really enjoying it. The end results: Losing weight (about 4 pounds since I started tracking about 2 weeks ago, and likely an additional pound or two between when I started exercising and when I started tracking), seeing my overall, day to day energy level rise dramatically (especially in situations where I'm going on less sleep than I'd prefer), and being able to play an hour and a half of flag football on Sunday afternoon without dying of exhaustion :) I can deal with that!

Reaching the top, sort of... (also, post #300!)

So, for the 300th post in the history of this blog, I shall finish out the ascending portion of my Half Dome story. I'm pleased it worked out that way, as I thought I was going to get to 300 on like the 2nd post, but then I discovered that there were a few old "draft" posts that never were posted that were included in the count that I was getting on the log in page. (And I actually started and had most of this post written almost 2 weeks ago, but a flaky internet connection prevented me from finishing and somehow it took me this long to get back to it)

So, I personally wasn't at all ready (or even that interested) in continuing up the trail to Half Dome, but I was convinced that God wanted me to continue, there really wasn't much getting around that fact, and so I started again, along with my uncle. As I started, things weren't a whole different than they had been when I had sat down before the 2 miles to go sign. I felt very weak, I was getting winded very quickly, etc, etc. And the trail was pretty steep at this point as well. I took it a very little bit at a time, stopping for a minute or two break at virtually every spot that looked convenient. I noticed that my pace would still keep me putting some distance between myself and my uncle, so I would find a place to sit, wait for him to catch up, sit with him for a bit, and then take off ahead of him.

Eventually I found I was able to go further at a time, and my routine formalized to this - I'd get some good distance between my uncle and myself, sit down, and then take off again shortly after he arrived. I repeated this several times, and then at one of the points where I sat down, I realized I had gotten far enough away that I couldn't see him behind me. I waited for a bit, intending to continue my routine. However, at some point, he must have taken a more extended break, because he didn't come for a while, and I was feeling ready to go on, so I did, basically committing to go as far as I could get on my own. At this point in the hike, I was still basically in the woods, I had really no concept of what exactly was up ahead, or what I would encounter - but eventually I came out into a more open part of the trail and headed up unto and to the left.

As I crested this hill, things flattened out somewhat, and I realized I was coming out of the woods and onto a plateau, where all of sudden I could look out over the valley and see the likes of this:

The tears were back behind my sunglasses, but for very different reasons this time. This wasn't the true end of the trail, but it was something very much worth climbing to see, and something I would have totally missed out on, had I let my own instincts prevail and given up in the middle of the woods. I stopped and paused for a few moments, and then started to head onward. There was actually an additional rise up ahead, and as I started towards it, I saw my Mom and Dad coming back down it. They met me and turned with me to head back over the rise, encouraging me that it opened up even more just ahead, and it did.

I actually think both of those pictures were probably taken from the second location, but I have to provide some sense of building the story. Anyhow, Mom and Dad also led me to the view that caused them to end their ascent:

The famous "Heartbreak Hill. You can't really see from the picture, but to us, it looked like there were people literally going straight up the lower part of that rockface, where there were still trees. In actually, this was not the case, but they were ascending stone stairs of the same ilk that we had ascended on our trek alongside Vernal Falls. And, though we couldn't see this view from there, we knew that after you got through all that, this awaited:

The last several hundred feet to the top of Half Dome takes you straight up the rock face, with just the assistance of the cables you see here. It's really hard to totally get a feel for how steep the climb is from pictures, but Tim's report was, at least in stretches, it was definitely in excess of a 45 degree climb. As I looked at the whole view, I knew, as my parents had, that getting up it was just not in the cards today, and this was where my ascent would end as well. However, as opposed to the last time I had thought my ascent over, I was very much at peace at this time. I had pressed on well beyond where everything in me had wanted to give up, and I was very much sensing I had made it as far as I was supposed to get on this day.

However, a funny thing happened while I was standing there, looking up at the summit. Remember how I said (I think several times) that part of my problem from the beginning was that I didn't really want to climb Half Dome, that I was just doing it because that's what we were doing, and that there was nothing internal pushing me to reach the top? Well, all that was changing with the end of the trail staring me in the face, albeit about 1000 feet or so up. I now WANTED to get to the top of Half Dome. In fact, as we stood/sat there, I almost got to the point of starting of again on a couple occasions, but wisdom prevailed. (I learned once we started down just how wise that was. By this time, the groin injury I had sustained going up the waterfalls was so aggravated, that any time I had to actually "step" up, it was absolutely excrutiating. I was generally okay to walk up or downhill, but it probably would have taken me all of 5 steps up Heartbreak Hill to come wincing back down) However, I told myself right then and there that where I was was fine for that day, but that I would come back someday and get to the top - and I intend to do just that.

But, like I said, this was it for that trip, so after some rest, I was ready to head back down the trail.

A crisis of the will

2 more miles?! Really? As tiny and unremarkable as that little sign was, it somehow managed to sap every last bit of fight from me. I don't think anyone else in the group was particularly thrilled to see it either. We all sat down around the edge of this open area for a break (an extended one this time), but when I personally sat down, it felt like I was doing so without any intention to get back up - at least not to continue forward. Before that sign, I was still holding out some hope of making it to the end of the hike. But with 2 miles to go, the way I was feeling now, my mind could not conceive of any possible way I could make it all the way and then still have enough to make the final ascent. If I couldn't make it all the way, then what was the point of continuing to put myself through this - especially since I never really had that much desire to do this in the first place. I mean, quiting a mile further up the trail was still quiting, right?

So there I sat, feeling pretty much completely defeated, and with nothing in my body or mind wanting to go forward. I sulked while I ate and drank - not liking the idea of being the first (and maybe only, even though the folks were openly talking about not being able to make it) one to pack it in, but not thinking my pride was worth continuing, especially since I was only postponing the inevitable. After several minutes, my folks decided to go on, but my uncle was planning to rest longer. As my parents left, it was decided that I would wait behind, and if I wanted to continue when my uncle moved on, I would, if not, I wouldn't. In my mind, I was pretty sure what was going to happen, and it was apparently pretty obvious to my parents as well.

There was only one problem - that understanding that I had had since the plane ride on the beginning of the trip that I had an appointment with God somewhere on this hike, and if it had come and gone, I had certainly been unaware. So, God and I had a bit of a chat, that I think went something like this, though in my head, not out loud :):

Me: So God, this was it, right? I'm done now, and I'll understand later where we met - or maybe we'll meet on the way down?
God: You need to go higher.
Me: Are you kidding me? I'm beaten - done. There's no way I can make it all the way, so why would I put myself through this more?
God: I want you to go higher - and I'm telling you you can go higher.
Me: Why? What could possibly be worth continuing this? Tell me where I'm supposed to go.
God: I want you to go higher - isn't that enough for you?

And that's pretty much where the conversation ended. It was obvious I wasn't going to hear what I wanted to hear, so I was left to wrestle internally with what God was asking of me. There was nothing that came from me that wanted to continue - nothing. I felt tears welling up under my sunglasses as I fought - still not sure of what I was going to do when the moment of decision came.

A few minutes later (much, much too soon by my thinking) - my uncle looked over at me and said: "Are you ready?" The answer (the real answer, not what I said), was no - I was not ready. But, my decision was made, I was going to get up anyhow, and so I did - closing my pack back up and preparing to go higher.