"But those people did." He states it simply as we peek down at a group of bodies the size of grasshoppers. Hikers. All adults. Yes, they got there, somehow. But us? We're a family with a seven, five, and four-year-old in tow.
My husband's motto is too often an overwhelming, 'All things are possible!'. So, two days ago, we were suiting up with backpacks and water shoes to attempt to find the base of this majestic waterfall we'd so often gazed at from above.
I'll admit - I was skeptical. And because I was having a bad day, I was also grumpy. More than enough times we've walked hours into the woods on a quest for some 'amazing place' - to only turn back with grouchy, tired kids on our backs. But, maybe my husband knows it, and maybe that's why he pushes me to hike, but once I'm surrounded by forest and river - my mood melts away.
How can I be negative surrounded by all this beauty? Siblings walking hand in had, grabbing frogs and so determined to get somewhere completely, seemingly impossible? It's endearing and precious and I'd better embrace it. And I do. Slipping my arm around my man, I smile and embrace this crazy quest.
About two-hours in, surprise! The most breath-taking landscape I've ever seen. Vacant of people. Lush with soft moss and sparkling pools of fresh water, cascading down a small waterfall. This isn't "the" waterfall we're questing to find, but it's a welcome surprise in the middle of our walk.
This is the part of the day where I forget I didn't wear my bathing suit and surrender to the moment. Soaking wet, we climb behind this wonder. We're yelling, it's so loud. Shimmering light, wide-eyed children. Snuggled in a waterfall's cove. This is a recipe for release. And once we climbed to the top? A natural playground of slippery slides and God's wading pools comparable to what a theme park would desperately try to replicate. (And never succeed.)
We trudge on, desperate to reach our goal. We slip, there are bruises, trips, falls. Tears. Sips of water in the hot summer sun. Feet wrinkled from too long in the river. But then, around another bend, over another fallen tree, and...
We made it. We did it. Shouts of "Look!" and "We're here!" can be heard echoing around us.
I gasp. We did make it. We actually did.
So, the end of the story is this - yes, our three-year-old DID accomplish a four-hour hike to the bottom of one of the tallest waterfalls in Canada. And our older son proudly proclaimed, "See, Mom, nothing is impossible."
Tears well up as I gaze around me. This is what life is about. The magnitude of God's creation. The pursuit of something greater than me. The impossible becoming possible.
The ability to humbly admit when you were wrong and your child taught you a lesson. To look up. Always up. To realize how very small we are and how very enormous He is. To embrace the beauty and accept it as a profound gift. A precious gift for the ones He loves. To get outside and sit there a long, long while. To trudge. To get muddy and sweaty with your kids. These little ones, bathing in a pool at the bottom of this surreal dream world. These little ones who are staring up in awe as they look upon all God's glory. These little ones who feel satisfied in their own ability to achieve a dream. Something great. Something someone said was impossible.
But, oh, it is possible.
Come on, Mom.
And I sit quiet, surrounded by thundering roar, and wonder what other impossible things we can accomplish in Him. I'll lean hard into Christ who has the power to make bigger, life-changing 'impossibles' turn into a glorious, "we did it".
A treasure found along the way -
Blessings to you in your 'impossible' pursuits...
And Jesus said to him, "'If You can?' All things are possible to him who believes."
Women Living Well
Work In Progress Wednesday