We did it... finally.

 

The chill made my breath visible. The headlamps of fellow hikers along the pathway ahead of us looked like fairy lights descending below. My wayward hair kept dashing across my headlamp and in front of my eyes making the navigation along the edge of the north rim in the darkness a bit of a challenge. The wind was ushering in the cold front as we descended into the canyon, and there was a strange excitement in the air. I was so filled with anticipation, it's entirely possible that the excitement was created by my own heart. :-) Krista and I were FINALLY hiking the rim to rim of the Grand Canyon together, after waiting years and training for months. 

That one place in the trail where it looks like jumping off a cliff is the only forward option...

 In reality, it turns sharply and descends along this wall. :-) 

The headwaters of the roaring falls - the water apparently comes straight out of the rocks. 

We walked, talked, listened to the absolute silence and simply absorbed what is impossible to comprehend in the magnitude of the place. 

At this point, Krista was getting irritated with me for being a "drill sergeant". Keep. Moving! We had to push past the pain and fatigue; if you stop too long your body locks up and refuses to comply. 

We completed 22 miles in 11 hours. When I announced this fact to Krista at the top, she teared up... we've worked hard to get to this place and it was such an incredibly special thing to share together. I will treasure these memories all the days of my life. 

Strength and Courage born in the Battle

So much of life is not unlike a battlefield. We are forced to fight hard, to find our way in unknown territory, to stand alongside others in the fight or to stand alone, utterly isolated. We are forced to learn skills we never knew we needed. We face pain, sorrow, fear and we are always changed by it. We are broken, but we also can become stronger, wiser, resilient and more capable of helping others through that brokenness. 

So many battlefields where we are forced to fight are not "fair", of our own making, or "justified". And yet, they become very much our own battles and we are to fight them whether we have the skill set, the tools, the strength or the army to do so. The horror of what is happening post-Hurricane Helene in Appalachia right now is simply unimaginable. There is strength and courage being born out of the absolute devastation and tragedy. In those who have survived and must fight on the battlefield for restoration, for life to continue, for sorrow to not have the final say, there will be hope found in the most unexpected places. They will do the unthinkable, they will be forced to find their way in the darkness and do what is impossible. 

I see it in my friend who is running the gauntlet of caring for parents who are fading in the tragedy of dementia. I see it in the ones who are fighting or have fought the beast of cancer. I see it in those who have lost forever what they hold dearest. I see it in the hope deferred, in the heartache of disappointment, in the valley of loneliness. The world is watching as we suffer and yet we will each of us feel very much alone in the process at times. I hope that I am able to SEE, to help others through the darkness, to do the heavy lifting when someone is too weak to stand, to give hope when the hope has faded, to dig through the mud and rocks to help others find what is lost. Most of all I hope that I'm able to teach my boys to do so, because that is four times the power, potency and strength. 

I am currently training for a rim to rim hike in the Grand Canyon with Krista, Kurt and Cuzzin Kelsey. We have wanted to do this together for a very long time and we are hoping that it comes together as we plan for this coming weekend. I have been training on the weekends, mostly, and I have learned a lot in the process about myself, pushing past fatigue, fighting to climb when my strength is waning. This past weekend I climbed 16 miles in an area that I have not really explored previously. I had to walk through about 10 inches of snow for approximately 5 miles of the hike was something I hadn't prepared for, and it made it particularly challenging. It was a rewarding challenge, though, and I know I am stronger for it. 

We don't know what we will be expected to face in tomorrow... so today, we must take the next step, even if that feels impossible.