Few and Far Between...

I have returned to Catonsville, MD and have spent the past week searching for a job. Reality is often an undesirable place to be... Still I have a very difficult time viewing life through the rose-colored glasses of pretension. My weeks in South Carolina were good, restful, and more peaceful than I have known in several months. While there I also celebrated my 27th birthday which was surprising pleasant despite the quiet and distance from friends.
On the road back to Maryland I stopped in Durham, NC and spent some time with my friend Ross and his wife Liz. Ross is a great friend from the African chapter of my life. While I was setting up a study abroad program in Uganda, Ross was really making a difference in the world working for the African Council of Churches in Nairobi, Kenya and sitting in on peace keeping deals for Sudan. During that year we spent Christmas together on Zanzibar Island, climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, and trekked through the rain forest for Mountain Gorillas. Because of our unique experiences both together and individually in Africa, the bonds of our friendship are strong, rare, and deeply rooted in faith. Before this visit I had not seen Ross in nearly three years. Naturally we spent many hours reminiscing on our ridiculous adventures across the globe and how those experiences have shaped and integrated our world views. The visit was a great reminder of those lonely days in a foreign land and the achievement of accomplishing the task of taking one day at a time.
This week as I have found myself in a foreign land where friends are a bit closer than ocean widths apart, but still few and far between, I have been reflecting on my time with Ross ascending a 20,000 foot glacial capped mountain in Equatorial Africa. The majority of the climb was not very difficult until the last few thousand feet when the air was thin and we were tired. We made it to the base camp just below the summit around 18,000 feet where most people stop... But not us. Around 1:00 AM we were awakened by our guide for the final ascent to the summit. The purpose for leaving at this hour is to reach the peak at sunrise and take in the spectacular views. In complete darkness, aside from the dim illumination from out headlamps and flashlights, we climbed up the steep, jagged, and rocky face of the Western Breech of the mountain. All through the night we put one foot in front of the other; one icy rock after another. For a while we were stuck on a pure sheet of ice at what must have been less than a 45 degree angle. Ross and I sat there for an hour while our guide scrambled to find a way out. I remember that my knees were killing me long before the sun came up and every step took us away from solidarity and towards uncertainty. There is no set path on the Western Breech. The only way to make the journey is to literally keep moving through the darkness and ice, securing each foothold as you climb up and up until you reach the top. And then, about seven hours after we had begun, there we were at the Uhuru Peak - on top of the largest free standing mountain in the world - surrounded by glaciers, hardly breathing, and utterly exhausted. It was magnificent!
The point of all this is that I am drawing many parallels in my present life to the climb. To take one step at a time, using caution while planting each foot on the ground to keep from slipping, its tedious, frustrating, and exhausting. Sometimes the air is thin, the darkness confusing, and the lack of a clear path is beyond daunting. However, I believe there is a way, a path that not only has been prepared, but is going towards something good, solid, and corresponds to path of Christ crucified. As the writer of Ecclesiastes states, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...” And from this place I will continue walking and breathing and keep my eyes heavenward.