A Metaphor

One time, when I was in junior high, my family and some friends went somewhere in the Superstition mountains east of our Gilbert home to go rock climbing. There's something pretty amazing about climbing up the side of a rock with the wind blowing on your face and a beautiful view awaiting you at the top, and I find that rock climbing in a gym just doesn't quite measure up. Anyway, my dad set up the ropes and we all took turns scaling this rock, that for some reason I remember being rated 5.5. I could be wrong on that - this was around 12 years ago, after all. In any case, a 5.5 isn't all that hard, but to an adolescent me, it certainly felt like it would be quite an achievement if I reached the top. (For you Tucson folks, Hitchcock pinnacle is rated 5.7-5.10 depending on which route you take.)

My turn came, and I started out pretty strong. I was excited and full of energy, and so I scampered up the first part of the rock with no problems. But, I got about halfway up, and I started to get tired and that part was a bit harder than the first part, so I just kind of froze. There I was, hanging off the side of a rock, feeling like getting to the top would be impossible, and so I froze and I started to cry. Down below, my parents began to shout up some encouraging words, and my dad started to talk me through, step by step, how to keep going. I remember thinking, "I CAN'T DO THIS!", and apparently those words escaped my lips as well. Several times.

Not to be anticlimactic, but I reached the top. When I got back down to the base, my mom came up to me and said, "Krista, the entire time you kept yelling 'I can't do this', even as you were doing it. You didn't stop moving forward."

Moving to San Diego feels a bit like climbing that rock. I find myself thinking pretty often, "I can't do this." With just over two weeks before my official move date, I kind of feel like freezing...stopping...no longer moving forward. But I haven't...yet. I continue to work each day on sorting through my stuff so I can pack what needs to be packed and store what needs to be stored. I've reserved a U-Haul trailer and have made plans with my sister for the drive out. It's gonna happen. Yet I continue to say, "I can't do this", even as I'm doing it.

And I wonder if that makes God a little bit sad. Not the fact that I continue to move forward. I think He's always pleased when we follow Him. But, the fact that I continue to say, "I can't do this." Let's face it: lurking behind that statement is either self-reliance ("It's up to me, and I'm gonna fail") or doubting God ("It's up to God, and He's not gonna do it").

How different could this move look if I moved forward with these words on my lips instead?

"I can do all things through Him who gives me strength."