Watching from sidelines

To call it a rock would be an understatement, a mountain an exaggeration. It was a giant rock hill, with a natural arch. Worn smooth by water and time, it presented a challenge that our van full of adventurers could not deny. They demanded Nate pull over, and had the van doors open before we stopped rolling. I climbed out too, because 10 hours a day inside a van is sufficient for me. We stood across the road from Wilson’s Arch, its dusty red paths and angles cutting into a cloudless sky.

I went, because they went, and because we are at the end of an era, which is the beginning of an era, but still, an end. I was a part when it began, and I want to be with my covenant friends when they finish this chapter.

I scrambled behind the pack, trying to keep up, smaller rocks and boulders falling down the path behind me. I tried not to think of myself following those rocks down and breaking my crown. About halfway up, I got tired. 6000 feet elevation is hard on the lungs, and everything else. I sat on a sunny rock and watched the team go up to the top.

At that moment, I didn’t think I could go any further. But there they stood, victorious, overlooking the valleys and the hills and the thick black stripes of highway crisscrossing it all. Their voices rang out across the miles.

I didn’t want to climb the hill. Even more, I did not want to be left behind, and to miss what they were seeing, and most importantly, to see it with them. I came a little higher. The team spotted me and started calling encouragement. Richy was a little worried I would fall, telling me to stay still and not risk it.

I stood on the slope, out of breath and emotionally moved.I am tired of waiting while others take the risks. I am tired of sitting peacefully on a sunny rock while my team strain muscles and test the limits of their endurance, and make it.

I am not broken anymore. So, I climbed the hill.

I climbed the hill, and I stood at the top.