You don't have to climb that mountain...

Out of all my experiences in Ireland, there is one that stands out above the rest as the most impacting that I haven't even touched on. There are two reasons for this: 1. I'm still processing my experience and 2. I don't know that I can fully explain what it was that I experienced. Words just don't seem to do it justice...

We spent Reek Sunday, the last Sunday of July, on a mountain called Croagh Patrick. It's a well-known place of pilgrimage. For many, the climb is as a tourist, for others it's a physical challenge, for some it's a spiritual retreat, and for others still it's become a place of sacrifice. Let me explain that last one... for some who climb the mountain, whether or not they make the climb determines what happens after this life.

We met together as a team the night before the climb and during that time one statement was made that has continued to "haunt" my mind. An older gentleman stood and said, "You know...they climb that mountain because we have not yet told them there is another way." Again...not the case for everyone on the mountain, but the thought that there are people hopelessly climbing for no other reason than they believe it will save them, broke my heart.

The following morning, we were given the opportunity to make the climb. Several of us decided to do it: 1. To see if we could and 2. To gain a little perspective into the lives of others. Starting off, the climb wasn't that bad. There was a gradual incline and the path was mostly dirt with some loose gravel, so you had to be careful of your footing. But still...it wasn't anything too horrible. But what began to make it more difficult was the number of people on the path. Papers reported somewhere between 35-40,000 pilgrims, double those who climbed last year and the most this mountain had ever seen! You had to begin to be creative with where you stepped so as not to slip and create a domino effect down the mountain! The further up we went, the harder the climb became. The loose gravel became even more slick as the incline increased, and the air became a little more thin making it harder to catch your breath.

We continued on our journey, breathing a little more heavily now and finally came to the "final rest point". That's at least what we called it, because what we saw past that looked anything but fun. After reaching the 3/4 mark, the mountain terrain changes as well as the incline. What was once a slight incline now became noticeably steep, and small gravel turned to sheet rock (baseball to volleyball sized) all of which were loose when you stepped on them. So...for every one step you took forward, you were sent sliding down about three. Literally crawling up the side of the mountain, we used our hands to claw at the rocks while trying our hardest to find our footing and move forward. We took seven steps and then stopped to catch our breath, then five steps and rest, then three steps and rest, then one step...until finally there was just nothing left. As we sat or better clung to the side of the mountain, one thought kept going over and over in my mind..."they climb that mountain because we have not yet told them there is another way."

In that moment of clinging to that mountain, everything within us wanted to just scream out at the top of our lungs "STOP! You don't have to do this! You don't have to climb this mountain!" Physically and emotionally drained, we just sat there unable to move watching people desperately struggle to make it one more step...and for what?!

With the top of the mountain just feet away, we determined to use every bit of strength we had left to climb until we reached it. After two and a half draining hours, we reached the summit. We had to take a moment to celebrate, so separating ourselves from the crowds of people, we walked over to an edge where no one was and threw ourselves a little party for making it all the way up! But celebration was short-lived as we turned back around to see the looks of some just "hoping it was enough".

We stayed on the summit for about an hour, observing people, making conversation, and taking it all in. Then came the time for us to make it back down. The descent went much faster, and we had the bruises and scrapes to prove it!

As we returned to our B&B that evening, I couldn’t shake that man’s statement that, “they climb that mountain because we have not yet told them there is another way.” I couldn’t sleep. Every time I shut my eyes I only saw the faces of those struggling on that mountain. So, as I sat up journaling, I found myself saying out loud, “God, what am I supposed to do with this? How do I bring an experience like this home?”

Everywhere you look, there are people climbing mountains. Sure, they look a little different than rocks and gravel and steep slopes pointing up in the air. Some mountains look like an eating disorder, drugs, alcohol, work, boyfriend/girlfriend, sex, partying, cutting, materialism, popularity, etc. People are so convinced that “if I just do __________ or have __________, then I’ll have what I need. When I do/have ______________ then I’ll be happy and satisfied.” We’re desperately searching for something that will fill that emptiness or sense of hopelessness we feel inside. And maybe if we climb up this mountain that’ll be enough.

Two words I mentioned in earlier posts here and here…Perspective and Urgency. What I gained at Croagh Patrick, if nothing else, was a whole new perspective of what my life is supposed to be about. And along with that, I gained an urgency to want to live boldly and speak out into the lives of others, “You don’t have to climb that mountain! There’s another way and His name is Jesus Christ!”