The genesis of this is that Jesus routinely used parables to explain various things. To put it into a context that people could relate too.
Marriage is supposed to be forever. The only thing that breaks the commitment of marriage is the end of life. When I took my vows for the first time, I truly thought that I would remain married until the day I died, but it's not happening. What went wrong.
I feel like I'm stuck on this mountain called life, my partner and I are no longer tied together because she quit on me as we were making our way up.
It started off good at the base of the mountain. We were in love, we made that commitment to love each other, as two climbers make a commitment to help each other climb up to the top. We tie ourselves to each other, so that one can aid the other if we fall. I make my way up the mountain face, securing myself to it, then proceed to guide her as she makes her way up behind me. Telling her where to grab hold at, looking down to tell her where the best places to move to are at. Waiting with bated breath as she makes her way up to me. Once she is secured to the side where I feel she's safe, I proceed up a little higher, listening to her as she tells me from her vantage point where I can grab hold of it further and further.
My arms ache at each effort to make my way up. Little trials in life, where we encounter problems that the two of us face together. “If you move to your left, there is a giant crack you can get your fingers into to hoist yourself up.” She tells me. I can't always see the things that I need to see. I need to depend on her to point them out to me periodically. “The kids have issues, this is what works best” or “When you do something like that, it makes people think less of you, I don't want people to think less of you, I want them to see you the same way I see you.”
As I secure myself to the place I'm at, I call down to her to join me, guiding her gently along the way. “That rock you are reaching for has cracks around the top, don't grab it, I don't think it's strong enough to support you.” I don't like what she's doing because it could cause her to fall. “This is the type of job that can cause us to have bigger issues. It's a risk, and I don't like the risks associated with it.”
She reaches me and we take a break, enjoying the success that we've had so far, looking down at the ground far below us. Marveling at the success that we've made, just the two of us, tied together with our bond and commitment that we've made to each other. God, acting as the rope, making us dependent upon each other and him.
I proceed, looking up at the summit, looking forward to reaching the end. Our life together, until we reach the top, seeing God face to face for eternity.
My arms are sore from exertion, pulling myself up further and further. They begin to shake from the pure exhaustion from continuing further, but below me, my wife provides the encouragement that I need to continue up. I haft to succeed to the next place so that she is safe and secure. She depends on me to make it, so the pain that I feel from everything is pushed back to the back of my mind. Nothing else matters to me.
Again, I secure myself to the side of the mountain. A small cliff justs out, providing me a place to sit and rest. The perfect place to assent to where we can take a small break together. Again, I give her guidance, telling her from my vantage point where to move to. What to feel for. Again I see her succeed as she trusts me, just as I had trusted her to make it to this point.
We sit and talk, reflecting on where we were when we started. We look down and see how far we have advanced. How far we have come to get to this point. We look up to the top. I'm eager to get there, and want to approach it full force.
“Thats a long way to go.” She tells me.
Of course it is. But the scene from the top will be glorious. Majestic! Worth each little slide back, and each pain that we endure. Once we get to the top, we can turn and look back at what we did despite the pain, exhaustion, and sores. We can instead look at the majesty that will be surrounding us. Looking into forever. We can see the sunset from a vantage point that we've not seen from before. A woman who is giving birth is in pain, but once the child is born, the pain no longer matters, its the joy of holding the child that matters. That is what the Bible says. I feel the same way about climbing the mountain. Once we get to the top, the struggle to get there will no longer matter. Its the view from the summit that will matter. The knowledge that you succeeded.
I proceed up the face. My mussel thankful for the break that they have received, but now my joints are stiff. Again I pull my self up further and further, hearing her voice guide me as I make my way up the side. Taking comfort in knowing that she is looking out for me, but I fail to notice that what was once enthusiastic encouragement are now just words. I'm concentrating on what is before me. Not realizing the doubts that she has.
I call down to her, but she hesitates. “It's to big. It's to high.” She tells me. I watch in bewilderment as she quits, and starts to climb down the mountain. Leaving me stuck to the side, no longer able to move. Forgetting how far we had come, the successes that we had.
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