May 27, 2015:
I need a mountain to climb. Ever since finishing my degree I’ve been traversing a wide, low valley. The valley is pleasant, with a slower pace of life, plenty to eat, warmth, and routine. But I tire of the stagnant air. People in the valley are content working their fields and plucking their fruit in the shadow of the range. They engage in small talk and bicker over the boundaries between their plots.
But I need a mountain to climb. I need to flex my legs, head for the heights, breathe the pure, thin air of higher altitudes. It’s what I was made for….
I am not ready, however. I have not even reached the foothills. I can only see the mountain from a distance. Its peak is usually shrouded in mist. Only sometimes do the clouds part to reveal its jagged contours. It beckons me.
I need a guide on that mountain, but I have not found one.
Perhaps there is no guide for where I want to go.
My God, you have made me a breather of the thin air. The atmosphere of the lowlands is nourishing, but nourishment without the hope of divestment feels futile. I see the mountain ahead, but my progress toward it feels unbearably slow.
Please give me patience. Give me trust. Give me the wisdom to prepare now for what is coming. Help me to absorb all the benefits of this valley life while I can. I will, to the best of my ability, make myself ready for when the time finally comes.