Seize the Valley
Today my family hiked at Linville Falls in North Carolina. When we arrived, we had to choose our path-- either the gorge or the overlook. We decided on the overlook, as it was shorter, "easier," and with what seemed to be a better view. The thought of adventure filled our minds and off we went. We reached the top, took some cute family pictures, and looked down with wonder at the mighty water fall and deep valley beneath. We noticed people far below and something about them caught our eye. They had taken the more difficult route and, despite its difficulty, it was enticing. We each exchanged a knowing glance as we changed gears and ran quickly to find the path which led to the deep gorge. We discovered the entrance with ease and began on another adventure. Within minutes, this new path was no longer well worn, but covered in deep vegetation. We were climbing over dead trees and overturned stones. It was most definitely the road less traveled. We were soon out of breath and exhilarated. This path was indeed harder, but far more exciting. Even though the sun was still high in the sky, the thick trees blocked out the majority of the light. The ground was damp and mossy and the entire scene felt as though it belonged in The Lord of the Rings. Before we knew it, we had reached the bottom and there it was: a lovely, raging river cutting through the jagged rock. To our left, the river extended as far as the eye could see. To our right stood a mighty waterfall--the very one we had looked on from above only hours before. Beautiful hardly does the moment justice. It was magnificent. It was one of those scenes that reminded me how insignificant I am and how majestic God is. I sat down on this huge boulder to take it all in and allowed myself to get lost in my thoughts. I looked up and saw people standing far above us, looking down. If only they knew the view they were missing. While the overlook gave perspective on the breadth of the river and its placement in the vast forest, the valley showed the falls in detail and displayed how they effortlessly cut through the rock, then crashed down. The sun rested on my surroundings differently below than it did from above. The contrast was striking. It hit me the parallel of our small adventure to life. Life is often categorized into either mountains or valleys. Society encourages us to take hold of the mountain tops, for those are the beautiful moments. We are taught to simply survive the valleys.
But today changed that notion for me.
See, while on the mountain top, secure within the railing, I couldn't help but long for more. The path was already determined and while it was easier, it felt like it was missing something. It was safe, but the predictable nature brought little adventure. It didn't test me or challenge me in any way. In fact, I "zoned out" multiple times as we walked up the slow, paved incline. The valley, on the other hand, made me feel alive. I had to stay alert so I wouldn't trip. It required me to use my instinct to climb and navigate. It allowed me to be creative with my path and destination. There was not a sign pointing to the river or to the base of the waterfall. Nowhere did it give a "how to" and there weren't railings. But it felt real. It was unpredictable and full of excitement. My entire family was sweaty, covered in blisters, and had aching legs due to the deep incline. In fact, on our way back, we took turns making up a story to distract us from the difficultly of our path. Yet, we could not have appreciated the valley without the mountain top. I needed to experience both. I needed to be encouraged of the vastness of the mountains, then reminded my place among them.
That is life... full of mountains and valleys.
Instead of wishing your life away while waiting for the mountaintops, seize the valleys! Regardless of what is happening that is uncomfortable or painful or scary, embrace it, for it is testing what you're made of. Walk in to it with your eyes wide open and your feet strong. Let it challenge you and cause you to ask questions. Take a moment to let it sink into your soul. Then remember that your heart is beating, you are alive, and you have an intricate part in a much bigger story.
You can't appreciate the highs without the lows --- or maybe it should be the other way around.
But today changed that notion for me.
See, while on the mountain top, secure within the railing, I couldn't help but long for more. The path was already determined and while it was easier, it felt like it was missing something. It was safe, but the predictable nature brought little adventure. It didn't test me or challenge me in any way. In fact, I "zoned out" multiple times as we walked up the slow, paved incline. The valley, on the other hand, made me feel alive. I had to stay alert so I wouldn't trip. It required me to use my instinct to climb and navigate. It allowed me to be creative with my path and destination. There was not a sign pointing to the river or to the base of the waterfall. Nowhere did it give a "how to" and there weren't railings. But it felt real. It was unpredictable and full of excitement. My entire family was sweaty, covered in blisters, and had aching legs due to the deep incline. In fact, on our way back, we took turns making up a story to distract us from the difficultly of our path. Yet, we could not have appreciated the valley without the mountain top. I needed to experience both. I needed to be encouraged of the vastness of the mountains, then reminded my place among them.
That is life... full of mountains and valleys.
Instead of wishing your life away while waiting for the mountaintops, seize the valleys! Regardless of what is happening that is uncomfortable or painful or scary, embrace it, for it is testing what you're made of. Walk in to it with your eyes wide open and your feet strong. Let it challenge you and cause you to ask questions. Take a moment to let it sink into your soul. Then remember that your heart is beating, you are alive, and you have an intricate part in a much bigger story.
You can't appreciate the highs without the lows --- or maybe it should be the other way around.
