In June 2010, my family came to visit us in Honduras and we drove to the beach. We didn’t have a map, or any estimate of how long it would take us to reach our destination. We only knew what city we were headed to and what road to take to get there. And it took FOREVER. And in that drive, there were moments where I wondered if Honduras even had a beach and how could it be possible that we had driven for eight hours and not gotten there yet. There was a moment where I wondered if we would ever make it.
Have you ever been hiking and you are climbing and climbing and you reach a spot where it just seems like you will never ever get there? You have been going forever, waiting forever, to reach the top, to have clarity, and you are just exhausted. You keep wondering “When will I arrive, when will I finally see the end of this?”
I have been hiking to the summit since July. I was talking with my counselor today about my depression and the trauma of my life in the past few months, and she said that she has been consistently hearing one phrase exit my mouth through it all.
“I just want this to be over”.
These seven words are deeper than they appear. They don’t just mean what they say. They also mean “I just want to know what’s going to happen”, “I just want to know how this ends”, “I just want to move on with life”, “I just want to know that I am going to be okay”.
Deep in my heart, they really mean “I just want to know that I am going to make it.”
Because sometimes I just don’t know that.
I had a wonderful time with old friends and new this evening, laughing, sharing, and having fun. Yet, I drove home knowing that tomorrow I will wake up in the same nightmare as every other day. I will wake up and feel stuck. I will wake up and be ready for this to be over. I will wake up and have to fight my eating disorder, fight my fears, fight for joy.
I am in that spot. I am in that part in the hike where I am just so freaking tired of it all, and I don’t know if I will ever make it. I just want to know where the road leads. What will the answer be? What’s going to happen? When will I get a new start? What does that new start look like? And the list goes on and on…
I was reminded this morning that often, on our way back down the mountain, we pass the spot where we had a total freak out about making it, and it’s really not that far from the top. We were close, we found the summit, we found clarity, we found answers.
We made it.
So, everyday, I get up, I cry a little, I move on with life. I carry this 50-lb backpack up the mountain, a little further, but yet not all the way up. But one day it will be over. One day, I will have clarity. I will move on.
It will be over one day. And I will be able to look back on today, when I was not sure if I would even make it, or if I could hold on, and I will remember that with God’s grace and guidance, and in His perfect timing, I had my answer.
I will look back and know, with full certainty, that I made it. Whatever it is.