Summiting Everest

I’m a beach girl at heart. I feel most alive when swimming in the ocean with the waves breaking over me and the gentle pulse of life around of me. But as I write, the snow outside of my Minnesota window is in its twelfth hour of falling, each accumulated inch resting heavily on my beach-loving heart.

I remember a similar feeling about this time last year when spring wasn’t the only promise that felt far off. The dead of winter heightened the feeling that my dreams had come to a frosty standstill. I was in my fourth winter of working on a book with no end in sight. The podcast I’d been dreaming of for a year had yet to launch. I had a desire for community that went unmet. God’s promises over my life felt frozen in place beyond my reach.

A wise teacher once told me that to live courageously we must feed on courage. With another winter storm in the forecast, I decided to read two accounts of people summiting Mount Everest—not because I have any mountaineering aspirations, but for two reasons:

1. I want to live a courageous life accomplishing what others believe is impossible. Climbing an unclimbable mountain in the face of the harshest conditions requires great vision and drive.

2. Everyone on Everest was colder than me—a thought that was greatly comforting.

Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay were the first two people to ever reach Everest’s summit. Hillary’s description of the final approach on their historic climb paralleled Bear Grylls’ description almost exactly. (Yes, I read Bear Grylls’ book and loved it!) For every step the final several hundred feet, Hillary, Norgay, and Grylls used their ice axes to hack out a place for their foot, then took a step, then rested in order to gain enough strength to repeat the process. Hack, step, rest, repeat. Step after painful step. Foot after oxygen-deprived foot. Logic and reason screamed at them to stop, but with the goal firmly in their minds they pressed on. Hack, step, rest, repeat.

Similarly, as we approach our breakthroughs and proverbial summits the difficulty level rises exponentially. We are bombarded with thoughts that seem logical telling us to quit, that we’ve already done our best, or that the reward won’t be worth the risk. When breakthrough feels farther away now than when I began, when the end point moves (or it snows in April), and when the voices around me start saying it’s no longer safe to pursue this goal, I know the summit must be approaching.

I know there is only one voice that matters and his voice imparts strength and peace. Climbing at 29,000’ is always going to be more challenging than walking at sea level. A slower pace doesn’t mean I’m off-track, it means it’s time to dig in and trust what’s gotten me this far. In those seasons, when the swirling snow blinds my vision, all I need to do is take the one step in front of me. And then the next one. It’s okay that it’s hard. It’s okay that it’s draining. Just keep going. Hack, step, rest, repeat.

Our God is good and faithful. His promises will come to pass. All that is required of us is to believe him and “not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up” (Gal. 6:9). In fact, the only way God’s promises won’t come to pass in our lives is if we quit on them. Keep hoping. Keep believing. The mountain is climbable. Spring always follows winter. Do not give up.

Father, thank you that your word never fails. Please breathe on any place of discouragement or disappointment I’m harboring. Speak to me afresh about your promises for my life, and fill me with the hope that you have for my life.

Author’s Note: As recent as 1953, Everest was deemed an unclimbable mountain—that is until May 29th of that year when Hillary and Norgay reached its peak. Since then, an average of 600 people annually summit the “unclimbable” mountain.