Updated: Apr 15
Skipped last week…sorry.
But the highlight certainly was Carolyn’s (my wife) visit in Berea at the Boone Tavern for a rest day. The week’s lead up to that was, in many ways, brutal. Long days of views just like the one above, bends and false summits that can demoralize.
This past, penultimate week has been fueled by my dear wife’s encouragement, and the memory of the Atlantic’s smell/sound. I am beyond ready for this epic to conclude, while eternally grateful for the opportunity. Two years ago I thought this dream was dead. It will soon be memory!
The “view up” has become a metaphor for the source of my strength. Grace. Totally undeserved, from the hand of the Father, because He loves me and calls me “son”. So as I anticipate this last week’s massive climb up into the Blue Ridge, I pray the “views up” will remind me from whence comes my strength. The bends will remind me I really can’t see the future, the false summits that even though I thought I’d arrived…not yet.
He created those mountains as well as the ocean that awaits. And me. A Steven Curtis Chapman song comes to mind: “His Strength is Perfect“ (when our strength is gone). Indeed.