Like a mirage in the desert, my Dream-Come-True loomed in the distance.
I almost started running.
Remembering my manners, after all I was with my Mom, who taught me manners,
and my daughter Rebekah, who I am supposed to be teaching manners,
I kept my pace to a really fast walk.
Lightly kicking dirt in their faces, I arrived at my destination.
While patiently waiting in line I quickly removed my chunky, awesome necklace
purchased from Kim’s Marina and braided my hair.
Again, that manner things was on display, and I couldn’t whine or fuss or pout.
I filled out a form, but refused to give my age.
Yes, I actually penned in all capital letters,
“I’m not telling!”
Although I certainly wasn’t a candidate to join the Montana Army National Guard,
they let me climb at the Last Chance Stampede in Helena.
Maybe they knew my little brother Allan is a civilian hot shot on their base
and builds lotsa’ stuff for them.
Maybe they knew my older brother Lee began his career in the National Guard
and became an Airborne Ranger.
Or maybe they just wanted something to laugh about during their next Weekend Warrior Drill.
It didn’t take me long before I Cinderellaed my flip-flops
with the floofy black flowers and attacked those rocks
with toes blinged out with Purple Passion and white flower decals.
I shoulda’ had Beka take a picture of my toes, they were cute.
Good thing those jeans weren’t just cotton. The spandex helped me to
out for the next footing.
I was in the groove and on the move.
If you had looked up AMAZING in the dictionary at that moment,
I’m pretty sure this picture would be in the definition.
Like a high school senior,
I was achieving what I had dreamed.
The trickery of the builders was unfolding,
because I realized the higher you climb,
the harder it is.
Is that really fair?
For the first time in my life, I wished I hadn’t grown my fingernails to talon length.
It was hard to grip the rocks when there were no indentures on the top.
I paused long enough to instruct Rebekah to be sure and get a SIDE VIEW not an UNDER VIEW.
The harness is the least flattering fashion accessory a woman could wear.
The climbing continued to get harder and harder as I got higher and higher.
Then, I remembered,
I’m afraid of heights.
Panic set in.
After a few moments, a few feet from the top, I was getting a little shaky from exertion.
I caved and stopped.
The descent couldn’t be fast enough for me.
But, I still felt good about what I had almost accomplished.
Afterall, I reasoned to myself, I nearly made it to the top.
That’s pretty good for someone my age….
…who’s always tired…
…and has lost her strength….
…who’s too lazy to work out…
Doesn’t that face just say, “I am SO done with this?”
As I walked away, I was high on the memory of FINALLY being able to climb a rock wall.
Then it hit me.
Only quitters quit.
(Name that movie!)
Instead of digging in deep when it got tuff,
I didn’t push myself,
I didn’t Go For It,
I didn’t Go for the Gusto,
I didn’t Just Do It,
I didn’t follow any of the advertising slogans that have motivated for years.
I just quit.
I quit because I was tired and scared.
The worst part was realizing I would never have that chance again.
That moment could never be relived, I could never conquer that fake mountain.
I gave for quitting, should have been the
I kept going.
A study on rock climbing technique quickly became a self-evaluating psycho session.
Ignoring my mom and daughter and my manners, I walked quietly with nothing to say for myself.
There are several other things on my Bucket List I haven’t accomplished,
many of them due to fear.
You haven’t seen my books on the library shelves, have you?
Oh, that’s right, I haven’t finished any of them.
Whether it’s personal goals or spiritual goals, it’s hard to finish.
(click on links to read entire verses)
He knows our human weakness in staying on a difficult path.
By the grace of God,
I never again want to be the
Quitter that Quits.
Gunna’ sharpen my pencil and my perseverance.
Time to conquer some of those goals that loom in the distance like a mirage.