After being at this location for three years, I’ve moved to a new home.

This blog has a new address. I now have a self-hosted site called Gail B. Hyatt, “because life is a constant treasure hunt.” My new address is GailBHyatt.com.

Come visit me over there, and when you do, it’s very important that you re-subscribe to the blog on that site. The RSS subscriptions that I have from this site will not transfer to the new site.

The box where you can subscribe is in the upper right-hand corner of the Home Page.

Looking forward to connecting with you.

See you at the new place,
Gail

What does flying in an airplane make possible? I’m about to land in Austin. The flight from Dallas to Austin is just under an hour. In the twenty minutes that we could have our computers out, I wrote this blogpost.

The flight from Nashville to Dallas was about two hours. Just enough time to get some significant work done. Now, granted, I don’t have a lot of real “work” to do. I don’t have an employer and I’m not in business for myself … yet. But, I do have lots of ideas and projects I’d like to complete. There are books I want to read, topics I’d like to study, and blog posts I need to write, just to name a few. The airplane is just the place to get them done.

I’ve known for years that Mike can be incredibly productive on an airplane. A while back, when he was feeling particularly distracted and overwhelmed, I remember him toying with the idea of booking himself a flight to LA and back just so he could get some work done. It’s fun to discover that I can experience that desire, too.

Today, during the first flight from Nashville to Dallas, I read and took notes on Chapter 2 of a book I’m reading. My mind was spinning with ideas stimulated from that chapter. I also jotted down the steps I needed to complete for project I’m undertaking. And I wrote the outline for this blogpost.

Before I landed I asked Mike, who was sitting beside me, and cranking out another one of his killer blog posts, “Why is riding on an airplane so sinkin’ productive?”

We came up with five conditions an airline flight provides which makes it possible to get the most work done in the shortest amount of time. Here’s what they are:

1. You can’t move. Once that seatbelt is fastened, and the flight attendant has the drink cart in the aisle, you are going nowhere.

2. You have very few distractions. After the attendant and the pilot give their little spiels, and unless the person sitting next to you hasn’t gotten the message that you have work to do, there’s nothing to distract you from your task at hand. (A good set of noise-canceling head phones are in my future, just in case.)

3. You can focus. Because your “desk” is teeny tiny, it’s easy to zero-in on one thing at a time.

4. You are enveloped in wonderful white noise. Let’s be honest, there’s no white noise like that of a jet airplane. If it doesn’t put you to sleep, it will most certainly put you into the creative zone.

5. You have a time limit. Once the plane is up in the air, out comes the computer, the book, or the pad of paper. The clock is ticking. I seem to read faster, type faster, and write like there’s no tomorrow when I know the speaker will soon tell me to “put away all electronic devices.”

I’ve got lots I want to learn and much I want to accomplish. Most will be done from my desk or my favorite chair at home. But I have to say, I’m especially excited that I have lots of trips planned for 2012. What will they make possible?

Question: What could your next flight make possible?

Three weeks ago today, Madeline’s (23 year, old daughter #4) boyfriend Shawn was hit by a car while riding his bicycle. It was a hit-and-run accident and he has no memory of it until he woke up in the ambulance. His hip was badly fractured. He had minor spine fractures, numerous cuts and scrapes and a terrible road rash on his hip and leg that was about two feet long.  After being hospitalized following major surgery he came to our home to recover.

While Shawn was in the hospital, Madeline never left his side. She was able to be there non-stop. Her current state of unemployment turned out to be a huge blessing.

I have a friend who is a stage-four cancer survivor. She spent a lot of time in the hospital receiving treatments and even a got a stem-cell transplant. I remember her saying, “Never leave anyone in the hospital alone. Someone needs to stay with the patient, spending not just the days but especially the nights as an advocate for him or her.” I’ve never forgotten that and have made sure to follow that advice whenever anyone I love has had to stay in the hospital. Madeline learned to carry that torch.

Shawn’s time in the emergency room and as a hospital patient was really hard. Madeline, at his side, had to help him make sense out of the accident and all the tests being performed on him. Missing meals and precious sleep, she helped him deal with incredible pain and assisted him to perform the most menial, everyday tasks. She was as strong as steel during that time.

After he was moved to our house, her determined, unwavering care continued. I have watched her, with utter admiration, as she strategically helped him in and out of bed, adjusted pillows, steadied the walker, handed crutches, changed bandages, dispensed medications—you name it. She did it. Without complaining. It has been hard. Really hard.

What makes this even more admirable is the fact that she has her own health challenges. She was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease when she was fourteen years old. Physical strength and stamina have always been a challenge for her. As her mom, I have tended to not push her beyond what I thought she could handle. I think I’ve short-changed her.

This situation has called out strength, wisdom and selflessness which I have never had the opportunity to see in her before.

She has truly grown up.

Being grown up is not about reaching a certain age and being able to call yourself an adult.

Being grown up is about doing the hard stuff. It’s about finding joy and gratitude in the midst of horrible circumstances. It’s about not feeling “entitled” to your way or your comfort. It’s also about taking initiative, not waiting to be asked. And, not resenting when you are asked to do something. Being grown up is about loving.

Being grown up is not about you.

Questions: What else does being grown up look like? 

I love Sunday nights. It’s like a reboot. “Old things are passed away. Behold all things become new.” A brand new week awaits. A week to laugh, to cry, to grow and learn. A week to live.

The past week had been one full of challenges. For example, Jonah, my new grandson from Uganda, had a tuberculosis scare following a battery of medical tests he had after coming to the United States. All turned out well, but it was quite scary for a while. Especially considering the fact that his mom, my daughter Megan, is on medications which suppress her immune system.

The biggest challenge of all came when we got the devastating news that Madeline’s boyfriend was hit by a car while riding his bicycle. A hit and run, no less. (Don’t get me started.) He has no memory of anything. He just found himself waking up in an ambulance. He’s now recuperating at our home following major hip surgery and is still dealing with a lot of pain, but … he’s ALIVE. Thank you, Lord.

As Michael and I sat with our computers last night, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness. My heart was full. I found myself pausing every now and then, closing my eyes, breathing slowly and deeply. Basking in the nearness of God.

As you might suspect, there was music in the background.

Yesterday evening’s soundtrack was Morten Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna (translated Eternal Light). Part of the reason I felt particularly thankful was due to this music. Each time I listen to it, it transports my mind and my heart to a place of light. A place of Supreme love. A place of gratitude. Often it brings me to tears.

Below is a sample from this album. You will want to hear the whole piece, but here are parts III and IV, O NATA LUX and VENI, SANCTE SPIRITUS. (Part IV begins at 4:48)

Close your eyes and listen. For the next seven minutes see if you have a similar reaction.

You can go to this site to read the lyrics with their translation from Latin. (You can follow parts III and IV.)

As you listen, may your heart soar to a higher, more grateful place.

(You can find the entire album HERE.)

Question: What music sends your heart to a place of gratitude?

Upbeat, dance music was played while we all entered the room. This got us excited about being there and put us in a real state of expectation about what we were going to learn.

Beautiful, epic, instrumental soundtracks were used as we reflected and wrote thoughts pertaining to our life and our future. Uplifting and positive songs put us in a state of gratitude and plenitude.

I’ve always known it and so have you. Music is power. It influences us all the time. Religious music lifts our hearts to worship. “Emo” music leaves us feeling melancholy and often depressed. Workout music makes us MOVE. Lullabies lull us to sleep.

Music is power.

So, what if we harnessed that power and intentionally used music to prepare us for the challenges and opportunities that we face every day?

You can do just that. You can use music to manage your emotional state just by following these five steps:

1. Determine the emotional state that you need. What are you going to do?

Do you want to go for a run? Study for an exam? Have a dinner party? Unwind from a long day? Hang out with friends? Spend some “special” time with your spouse?

After coming home from the seminar, I realized that I’d love to have a playlist that I could play while I was getting ready for my day. In the kitchen fixing breakfast. In the bathroom getting dressed. What would put me in a strong, positive, state of expectation? That’s what I wanted.

2. Determine where you where you want to “go.” How do you want to feel?

Do you want to feel worshipful? Full of energy? Reflective? Creative? Nostalgic? Romantic?

I have one playlist that I call “Porch Music.” It’s the music I want to play while sipping wine with my friends on the back porch on a warm summer’s evening. I want us to be relaxed and feel free to talk and laugh together.

As I considered songs for my It’s-Going-to-Be-an-Outstanding-Day playlist, I had a very specific goal in mind. I knew exactly where I wanted to “go.” I wanted to be energetic, positive and inspired.

3. Build a play list that can take you to the “place” you want to go. 

Start a collection of playlists for lots of different situations. Some may have lyrics, some may only have instrumental pieces.  Your personal music library and iTunes are all you need.

This is the funnest part for me. (Yes, the “funnest.”) If I’m not careful I can spend hours and hours looking for just the right songs for a particular playlist. I LOVE this!

For example, when I’m going to study or write I have a playlist that I call Gail’s-Background-Music. It consists of songs from my favorite soundtracks. Bobby Jones: Stroke of Genius; The Horse Whisperer, Little Women, Searching for Bobby Fischer; Braveheart, and Seabiscuit, to name a few.

As I thought about my It’s-Going-to-Be-an-Outstanding-Day list, I knew that I’d be including some dance music, some rock, and for sure a little reggae. Some of my favorite rockin’ Christian songs would be on that list. And a few fun, upbeat country songs would find spots there as well. I wanted to recall times in the past where I felt particularly strong and hopeful about the future, so I’d have a few oldies sprinkled throughout.

Bottom line: I looked for songs that made me feel good about life, about living it to the fullest. Today. I wanted to feel strong and confident—my best self—where I could be in a state to grow and to give.

4. Tweak and edit as you need to. This will be an ongoing process.

When you play this list a few times you’ll realize some of the songs just don’t fit in. Delete them. You’ll think of ones you forgot. And you’ll hear ones you must add. Keep tweaking.

5. Start listening. Get into your zone.

Listen in your kitchen. Listen in your bathroom. Listen on your back porch. Listen at your desk. Listen in your car. Listen on your run or in the gym. Most of all, have fun.

You get the idea.

Imagine how powerful this can be! Listen and let the magic of music work for you. It’s a tool that you can keep right in your personal “tool box.” Harness it’s power to manage your emotional state. Get inspired and energized. What’s possible when your best self shows up?

Question: What are some playlists you’d like to create? Think of ones you don’t currently have.

Here’s a sampling of my It’s-Going-to-Be-an-Outstanding-Day playlist

Good Morning by Mandisa (feat. TobyMac)
This is Your Life by Switchfoot
Dare You to Move by Switchfoot
Great Adventure by Steven Curtis Chapman
Live Out Loud by Steven Curtis Chapman
Dive by Steven Curtis Chapman
Stomp by Kirk Franklin
Who Wouldn’t Want to Be Me by Keith Urban
Let’s Get Loud by Jennifer Lopez
Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins
Free Ride by Edger Winter
Good Life by One Republic
Beautiful Life by Ace of Base
It’s My Life by Bon Jovi 

I’m still in shock. My eyes well up with tears at the mention of his name.

Four days ago, he got into some trash and did what English Setters are notorious for doing—he ate it. Quite a bit apparently. It was the second time he’d gotten deathly ill from eating trash.

I took him to the vet’s on Tuesday evening—even missed our weekly campus gathering to do it—and the vet greeted us with, “Nelson, buddy. So you’re back again, are you?” They loved Nelson at the vets. They loved Nelson at Paw Pals, the doggie daycare. They loved Nelson at the bank and at the dry-cleaners. Everybody loved Nelson.

Tuesday evening, the doctor took x-rays, ran a few tests, gave me some meds and told me to go home and watch him through the night, and if he got worse to bring him back Wednesday morning. He did get worse. He was in pain and couldn’t get comfortable. He moaned and whined and sometimes cried out very loudly.

I stayed up with him all night, making up a bed for myself on the couch in the den. At one point during the night, when he was particularly whiney and pitiful, I laid down on the floor next to him, curled up around his back, stroked his head and told him everything was going to be ok. I lay there for at least an hour.

The next morning, Mike woke up bright and early. We had a flight to catch to San Antonio where he would be speaking on Thursday. He walked into the den and saw me dozing on the couch. Then his eyes caught a very uncomfortably positioned Nelson laying on the floor beside me. Mike crouched down on the hard wooden floor and began comforting Nelson—stroking his silky head, talking gently to him, praying for him and just quietly letting him know that his he wasn’t alone.

Once 7:00 a.m. hit, Nelson obediently got up at my command and slowly walked to the car with me. He LOVED to ride in the car. He didn’t have enough power to jump up into the seat, so I carefully picked him up, put him inside, shut the door and off we went.

When I took Nelson up to the desk at the vet’s office, I explained that he was not better at all. I’d like to leave him there and our daughter Marissa would pick him up after class that afternoon. Meanwhile they could do more examinations, more tests and try to figure out what was going on and what they could do for him. Mike and I left for Texas.

When Marissa called later that afternoon, they told her that they wanted to keep him overnight. He was still in a lot of pain and they wanted to observe him longer and perform a few more tests.

On Thursday, Mike and I drove to Oak Hills Church where Mike would be leading an all day seminar on Creating Your Personal Life Plan. The meeting began at 8:30. At 9:00 I got a text from Marissa telling me to call her right away. It was urgent. It was about Nelson.

I slipped out of the room and expected her to tell me that they had to do emergency surgery on him or something along that line. No. She told me that she had just gotten a call from the vet telling her that Nelson didn’t make it through the night.

I was in complete shock. I thought for sure that we had caught this incident in time and that he would be fine. He might have to have his stomach pumped or something, but he would be fine. But no. Now he was gone and I couldn’t even tell Mike, who was in the middle of speaking. I had to wait all day before I could tell him.

The veterinary staff were completely stunned. None of the tests and blood-work had shown anything so life-threatening. Everyone was baffled.

And shocked.

And sad.

The doctor asked if they could do some further tests to see if they could find out what really happened. I said yes. The two likely culprits seemed to be poison or an obstruction. After talking with the office today it seems as if Nelson had apparently eaten something sharp and it had perforated his intestines, causing a severe infection that overtook his already weakened body way too fast. Needless to say, we’re heartbroken.

In lieu of more words, I’ll let the pictures show what a special dog he was. We’ll miss you, Nelson.

A very handsome boy!

THE BEST KID’S DOG!!

Under the umbrella fort with Ellie.

Dress up time.

Every dog needs socks, right?

One must wear a bib when going to the doctor.

Budding buddies—Ben and Nelson.

Your buddy, Uncle Loren will surely miss you!

Silly sleeping poses.

Summertime relaxing on the back porch. It’s what you do in the South. Where’s my Sweet Tea?

Stalking a bird—once a bird dog, always a bird dog.

Frolicking in the snow!

We’ll always love you, Nelson!

And now this, from my friend David Teem’s book And Thereby Hangs A Tale:

… It has been said that dogs have no souls. Maybe it does or doesn’t matter. It’s not an argument I care to make. But my question would be how could any creature love so purely without one? It is difficult to imagine a heaven without their kind.

I have often thought what it might be like when my own time comes, when my footfalls are heard at the gates of heaven. What might my welcome be? Will I be greeted with a blast of trumpets? Or the song of angels? Either one would be nice.

But I had another thought.

No, give me bustle. Give me the comic riot. Greet me with pant and clamor. Greet me with the wild exultant joy of dog love: perfect, complete, and above all true, love that seems at home wherever it is, but especially here. Give me three wet black noses pressing eager and impatiently through the gates. Give me the old music, the whine and the howl, the high lonesome cry of jubilee. Sweetness and homecoming overflowing all our cups, as if I am given complete absolution for my crime against them, a full and undoubted pardon. Truth is, I don’t think they held anything against me at all. They never could. And thereby hangs a tale.

July 8, 1978. Thirty-three years ago today. 

That is Gary Smalley, performing the service.

The Bride, the former Barbara Gail Bruce

Mr. and Mrs. Michael Hyatt

Our dear friend, Anne Jackson, moved out yesterday. She’s been staying with us for a couple of months while looking for a place to live in Nashville. While lugging one load after the other to her car, I mentioned to her that I knew of a great way to transfer hanging clothes—especially if they’re going to be packed in a car.

We all know that hauling and transporting piles of hanging clothes is a royal pain. The piles slide every which way and become one big, tangled mess to pick up and sort through. Anne’s plan was to take them all off the hangers, fold them carefully, squeeze them into Space Bags, haul them to the car, into the new house, up the stairs, free them from the bags, unfold them, place them all back on hangers and hang them in the closet. Also a royal pain.

I said, “Stop! I’ve got the solution.” “Fold them in a sheet.”

“A sheet?” she queried.

“Yes, a sheet.”

I explained to her how.

“BRILLIANT! Absolutely BRILLIANT!” she exclaimed once the bundle was secured. “How have I moved 37 times [or however many times it's been] and never discovered this? You’re a GENIUS!”

Well, I don’t know about that, but here’s how we did it. Six easy steps. Maybe it will make your next move a little easier.

1. Spread a sheet squarely across your bed or out on the floor.

2. Lay your clothes neatly in the middle of the sheet.

3. Fold the left and right sides of the sheet across the top of the clothes.

4. Fold the top and the bottom parts of the sheet into a “point.”

5. Gather the two points and tie them into a knot.

6. Pull the knot tight.

 Tah-Dah! From one closet to the next, you are ready to move!!

A huge “Thank You” to Anne for being the willing demonstrator. (You’ve been the perfect house guest. Mike and I are going to miss you!)

Last night, as Mike and I were going to bed, I read to him from a book I had just started. It was a book on marriage. It was debunking traditional advice given to people who desire to have a better marriage. Then this morning I read to him something I had read about Nihilism. It interested me because it applied to a problem a friend of ours was struggling with.

He said to me, “I thought you were reading the book about marriage.”

“I am,” I responded, “but I’m also reading about Nihilism.”

Then he thought for a minute. “And weren’t you just talking to me about something you read from A Wrinkle in Time?”

“Yep. I’m reading that too.”

I counted them up and admitted that I was actually reading six books at the moment.

He laughed, because he had five books of his own going at that time.

Now, before you put me in the “egg-head” category I need to make it crystal clear that I’m not a part of the new intelligentsia—as if that’s exactly what you were thinking. I do love books, but primarily because I need lots of help with life.

Sadly, I can’t take St. John Chrysostom, C.S. Lewis or David McCullough to lunch and pick their brains. I can’t literally surround myself with all the people smarter than me, or people who have traveled down roads on which I’m traveling. But I can surround myself with their words. So, when I have a question, when I need help, when I need to see life from a different perspective, I pick up a book.

I don’t always finish books. Occasionally I do, but more often than not I don’t. And that’s just fine. Sometimes it’s like meeting someone, getting the help you need and moving on without having to know everything they say about everything. And let’s be honest, some books aren’t worth finishing.

But many are and I just keep them going until I’ve gotten what I need, I get bored, something else grabs my attention, or until I finish them and grieve over their departure.

As I’ve thought about the number of books I tend to have at my side at any given time, I discovered three reasons why I don’t stick to just one:

1. Books come in a variety of formats. Each format fits a particular situation.

Traditional bound books:
Perfect for morning reading. I usually have a ruler and a pen in my hand. I ask questions, jot down comments in the margins and have a conversation with the author while I enjoy my morning coffee.

Audio books:
Great for road trips and long walks.

Electronic books:
Best for air travel and waiting rooms.

2. Books address the diversity of life’s circumstances. Life comes at you fast, from all angles.

Stories, Fiction, History:
For when I need some comic relief or a new perspective on life.

Practical Living:
For when I need to tap into someone else’s life experience and get concrete help for life’s challenges.

Personal Growth:
For when I need inspiration and an encouraging word from travelers who are ahead of me on life’s road.

3. Our days play out in a variety of settings. The different settings present different opportunities for learning.

Morning Reading:
My mind is the most alert and the most “teachable” in the morning. Consequently, this is when I tend to read “heavier” material.

On-the-go Reading:
If I’m likely to be distracted or interrupted I’ll gravitate toward fiction or stories that don’t require me to have a pen and paper in hand.

Bedtime Reading:
Because I’m already sleepy, I need a book that I can read in snippets. I rarely finish a chapter at night so I want to read bite-sized portions that will give my mind something positive to meditate on while I sleep.

So, there you have it. Three reasons why I read several books at one time and why it’s OK for you, too.

QUESTION: What about you? How many books are you reading right now?

P.S. Here are the books I’m currently reading:

A Wrinkle In Time by Madeleine L’Engle (Audio Book)

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller (Kindle)

The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work by John M. Gottman (Paperback)

Nihilism, The Root of the Revolution of the Modern Age by Eugene (Fr. Seraphim) Rose (Paperback)

Giver of Life, The Holy Spirit in Orthodox Tradition by Fr. John Oliver (Paperback)

The Melody of Faith, Theology in an Orthodox Key by Vigen Guroian (Paperback)

For example, last Sunday, I talked about Doing the WaIk. And that’s just what Mike and I have done almost every day since we’ve been in Colorado. But … I think we may have gotten a little over-confident.

We’ve loved hiking while here in the Rockies. So Tuesday we decided to do a climb. Not a climb as in rock-climbing, but a climb as in climbing up and over miles of rocks.

We had heard of two beautiful lakes on top of our mountain. The hike was only supposed to take an hour and half one way. We were up for it.

We started out on our beautiful forest trail.

We crossed over one bridge. (This is usually where our daily hikes have stopped—about 30 minutes up.) The little foot bridge would take us to places we’d never been before.

And soon crossed back over the stream on a second bridge.

The rushing water over the huge boulders was breathtaking.

Little did we know that our breaths would literally be taken away. We were at 9,200 feet and climbing. (I had an app on my iPhone that could tell me my current elevation.)

And climbing straight up. Away from the little path that we had come to know and love. Away from the companionship of our mountain stream. In fact, we couldn’t hear the sound of running water at all. We were now deep into the forest climbing a long, steep, dry, dusty, rocky staircase.

And up and up and up we climbed. Over more piles of loose rocks. This is when you are so grateful you invested in a pair of great hiking boots and hiking poles.

For probably an hour, the high altitude combined with the steep incline forced us to keep the following rhythm: Walk for 60 steps. Stop. Rest for 60 seconds. Go. Walk for 60 steps. Stop. Rest for 60 seconds. Go. Over and over. Our hearts were pounding right out of our chests. Our lungs felt like they were on fire. Our legs felt like they were lead weights.

We had to stop and sit down about every 15 minutes just so we wouldn’t fall over.

Never in my life had we attempted anything so exhausting. Our legs just didn’t want move.

We said things like this to each other: “We must have taken a wrong turn.” “This can’t be right.” ”Should we listen to our bodies?” They’re saying STOP.” “What if one of us breaks a leg? How could we haul each other out of here?” “What if we get stranded up here all night.”  On and on and on and on went our thoughts.

But on another level we KNEW it would be worth it. Our climb was supposed to take an hour and half. We had to be close. But, by the time we’d reached that limit, there was STILL no end to “up” in sight.

Thankfully, the dusty, rocky trail came to an end, and we heard the sound of running water again. Now we MUST be close..

We saw water. “Great, that must be coming straight off the lake!!”  We were so glad we didn’t bail.

We saw more water. Lots of beautiful water, tumbling and playing among huge, moss-covered boulders.

But still no end in sight. Only more “up.” And now, “up” with snow!? We had not prepared for snow. When we saw what looked like bear tracks in the snow we started to get scared all over again.

After two hours—well past the hour and a half prediction, we stopped to re-evaluate. The sun was going down behind the mountain top, and we were afraid our descent would be in the dark. Here we were, in the middle of nowhere, afraid and discouraged and didn’t know how much more our bodies could take. They were were screeming STOP.

We seriously contemplated turning around. I mean, we truly had accomplished more than we ever had before. We saw some gorgeous sites. We had no regrets.

But would we?

As we stood there, going back and forth in our minds, the thought came to us to call our friend Randy Elrod who had made this climb before. Thankfully my cell phone was able to connect to him—though spotty. We told him where we were and of our struggle. We told him we were completely exhausted, discouraged and even a little scared. As we described our surroundings, he said, “You’ve got to be so close.” “I just know it.”

He was able to find out the elevation of the Lakes. I told him my iPhone app showed we were at 10,224 feet. Randy said, “You’re only about 100 feet away. You’re SO close. “

“But what about the sunset I said?” (It was about 5pm by this point.)

He assured us, “I’ve made that climb over 30 times!” And I’ve come down after 7:00pm before. You have nothing to worry about. You’ll have plenty of light. Go for it. You can do it. You won’t be sorry.”

So we did—with his voice ringing in our ears, “You can do it”—we squared our shoulders, grabbed our poles and climbed some more.

Within five minutes we saw the landmark we had been waiting for: The Colorado Trail sign.

Elevation 10,290.

We turned left and knew the lakes were only a few more steps away. (FYI, if we would have kept straight, we could have climbed one of Colorado’s 14-footers … NO THANKS.)

All of a sudden, within two more minutes, we got our first glimpse. We immediately recognized the patten of snow, cascading downward, as the mountain directly above our cabin. Surely we hadn’t climbed THAT far???

With each step we saw more and more.

Mike whipped out the camera (which felt like it weighed about 100 pounds by this time!) and began snapping away. We found new energy.

THIS is what we saw. Indescribable beauty. Up so high only the eagles saw it everyday.

The lake was FULL of trout.

It was a little tough to get a photo of the trout but there are two in this picture.

We happened to be there right at their feeding time (I think it’s called a hatch.) and the lake looked like a giant bowl of popcorn with fish popping up and down all over the place. That frenzy lasted all of about five minutes. As abruptly as it started, it stopped. Then the lake was as smooth as glass. If ONLY we had brought a fishing pole!

After soaking up as much as we possibly could, we headed back down the mountain for home.

Down. Out of the lush, snow patched woods. Back to the rocks.

Down that rocky staircase, once again. It was SO much easier going down. My heart and my lungs … and my heart, were very happy now.

Soon we were back to our familiar little foot bridge.

And back on our familiar little path.

One and a half hours later (four  and a half hours after we had started our climb) we were back to our familiar little cabin. (Shaved off one hour coming down. Yay!!)

Before going inside, I turned around and looked up. This is how far we had climbed? All that snow was heading down into the “bowl” where the lakes are located. We had been way up there. Glory be to God.

Was it worth it?

A resounding YESsirree!

As I lay on the couch, feet elevated, Ibuprofen now in my system, I had some time to ask myself what could I take away from this adventure. Like most things in life, if we pay close attention, we’ll see that God is always teaching us. Here are three things I learned from our climb:

1. Set your sights high.
Sometimes we determine to do something or go somewhere and have no idea what it will require of us. But sometimes what you don’t know can help you. I don’t think we’d ever have attempted that climb if we would have known how difficult it would be. But now, on the other side of it, I have NO regrets. I am full of gratitude that I could succeed at something that was so above my comfort level.

2. Call on someone who’s successfully met this challenge before.
When you feel lost in the woods and you feel scared and exhausted of all your resources—like you can’t go another step, call on someone who has walked this road before. That person can tell you if it truly is worth it. They can tell you how to navigate the rough spots. They’ve been there. They’ve done it. They can give you perspective. They can give you the encouragement you need to believe you can make it, and give you concrete steps to make it to the end.

3. Invest what you learn into the lives of others.
The confidence and wisdom you gain, from pushing through the resistance, are qualities that strengthen and mature you. It should be no surprise, then, when one day you get a phone call from a friend who is exhausted, scared and can’t take another step. You can be their “Randy” who’s been down that road before and can help them get to the other side.

So, now my admonishment to you is:

Do The Climb.

What is your Climb? You can do it. Don’t loose heart. It will be so worth it.