The Red Leather Jacket: Mountain Climbs and Other Thoughts

It has been just over a year I made my eleventh climb up Mt. St. Helens. Ten times I summited with my late husband, Bill. This time, my special climbing partner was someone new. Jim.

In the past, Bill was always the leader for the climb and was gifted in leading many expeditions. He made sure everyone was as safe as could be. Last year, our climb leader had a very different leading style than Bill's. We were pretty much on our own. At one point, we got off the trail and found ourselves among even larger rocks and cliffs. We soon found our way back and the rest of the climb up was uneventful. At the top my daughter, Erika and her two sons, Andrew, age 14 and Caleb nearly 13 were waiting for us. We snapped our cameras marking the day. Ate our lunches and rested, knowing soon we would need to start our descent.

Going down is really almost more difficult that going up. Your quads are shaky and tired. Your ankles are wobbly from the constant balancing that must be done to battle against gravity and the rocky ground. While we all started down at the same time, Erika, Andrew and Caleb got ahead of us and soon it was just Jim and I.

When descending, I was in front and at one point, I heard a gasp and a loud thump. Jim was on a narrow ridge and he turned around, forgetting his back pack added extra bulk and the pack hit the rock wall beside the trail. Jim lost his balance and fell six feet to some rocks below. We sat for a few minutes and I silently prayed Jim was not seriously injured. After a few minutes rest, he seemed better and we continued our slow climb down. Later, he told me he had a dinner plate sized purple bruise on his backside to prove it was a substantial fall.

It was early evening when we arrived at the climber's bivouac. The warm fall day turned into a chilly, fall evening. We were grateful for the warm car and plans for a hot bath to soothe tired muscles and a good hot dinner before bed.

I've been thinking about that climb which took place just over a year ago. I realize life is similar to mountain climbs. There are the wonderful exhilarating sights at the top. There are long days slogging up to the summit. Just as in life, we experience wonderful highlights as well as lots of dull trudging up the trail and hard work. Sometimes we feel like we're all alone. Like when Jim and I were off track and he fell. Other times, we have excellent leadership and in life we truly sense God's presence and comfort.

Shouldn't life just be easy and trouble free? That might be what we'd like. Or would we? It's those hard times that we truly depend on God to help us through the rough patches. And make us stronger. The rocky slopes. The loss of balance and mishaps that happen to everyone. I'm glad I have those experiences to look back on. They remind me when life is not so easy who I can depend on. The good times are the times we can bask in the sunlight and just enjoy, knowing it won't always be.

Right now, life is good. But I don't know what's around the corner and will trust in my Savior to be my guide--whether the climb is easy and uneventful. Or difficult where we feel alone. I'm so glad my life--and the events surrounding my life--are in my Savior's hand. He is there in the highs and lows. May you, too, sense the loving Savior--at the top of the mountain. And the trudge back down.