Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: MOUNTAIN (07/02/20)
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TITLE: Ambush on Metaphor Mountain | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
07/09/20 -
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At ground level and with the sun shining, it never occurs to me that I cannot call on all my training and experience to hike right up and over with no problems. In fact, in the beginning, I jokingly referred to this imposing challenge as a molehill.
What sensible, intelligent person could not strike out and reach the final destination with a minimum of exertion? After all, I work out seven days a week and was told that an aura of confidence envelopes me.
Wait. Maybe my mother was the one who said that. I’m so tired. It doesn’t matter now.
What I need to do is stop and get my bearings. As I fish around in my pockets for a match to start a little fire, lightning flashes across the sky, and thunder crashes as if warning me that I’m way over my head. I should have listened to prevailing wisdom instead of taking pride in my own plan that has turned out to be less than stellar.
What a wake-up call.
In my fantasy mind, there would be no hard parts to this ascent over steep, lumpy terrain, and through imposing trees and prickly brush. Just as in old cartoons, I envisioned scampering deer, bunnies thumping their little feet to the music, and nothing short of an elevator waiting for me if I became bored. My muscles would not hurt, I would drink from clear springs, and happily-ever-after would be my sign off.
A cave nearby beckons me to stay dry. It’s too scary to venture inside, so I stay right at the entrance poised to escape. A decided terrifying roar pierces the night. Now, besides bears, I am forced to tremble and think about lions or tigers too. Oh, my!
I do not know how long I can go without real sustenance since what I thought I had with me seemed to evaporate before the first fall over a log, and the muddy slide back to square one.
With dogged determination and faith in my perceived problem-solving tools, I scream to the heavens that I am mad and not going to take it anymore. Not original, but it’s all I can produce in the heat of the angry moment. For a while, I whistle in the dark, but soon realize it’s a waste of breath.
Day after day, bruised and bleeding, I make a run at that wretched thing, but I keep splattering here and there. The rain stops. I lie down to rest and gaze at the stars and ponder my next move.
“What I could use,” I say aloud, “is a better compass.”
The old one never worked too well, anyway. Sometimes north would whirl around and point to south just to keep me in a state of useless running back and forth.
Alone on my mountain of fear, anxiety, pain, and confusion, I finally reach my arms up toward the sky and utter the only prayer I can force through my dry, chapped lips.
“Help me, Jesus.”
At the break of day, I rise and use my new-found, exquisitely accurate compass to get on with this journey. I stop to bathe in a sweet pool of fresh water that has quietly appeared. Then, I drink deeply from its bubbling source. Renewed energy and vigor propel me right over the very things that were holding me back.
Rock impediments are now stepping-stones. In no time, I am through the maze of failure and deception and rejoicing on the summit.
The best part is this: When the next mountain tries to keep me down, I will command it to move over because I am going up, over, or through, and not alone. My new and better compass will continue to point me to the right path to follow.
Nothing that roars or growls will have the power to stop me. Even if they try, I am sure with God’s grace that I can bear it!
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