Just for Me

I round the corner and see the massive mountain before me. Execution Rock towers high above my head, and I can’t believe I actually agreed to go on this hike. Garret, Tony, and three of the girls are far ahead of me, while the other three were left far behind. I was able to keep up with the guys for a while, but this out-of-shape flatland Kansan girl is still adjusting to the elevation of this region. The temptation to stay behind to “watch” the others was great, but I knew I would regret it if I did. So here I am now, this steep incline ahead of me, caught between those who ran ahead and those who gave up long ago.

I take a deep breath and start to climb. As I begin, a thought pops in my head.

Faith can move mountains.

Great, I think. So why can’t this mountain just level out a bit so I can climb it? Internally, I chuckle at myself (but only internally, because to do so externally would waste precious breath). And then I think, What is my mountain?

Swaziland is my mountain. Pursuing prostitutes. Mothering fourteen girls. Running a small craft business. These make my mountain.

As I continue to climb, I dare to turn and look down, just for a moment. I could very easily see the long, winding path from where I’d come. Places where the road was smooth, where hikers had paved before, and trails blazed completely by scratch by the few who went before me, as well as a few blazed completely by myself. And it is like looking at my own past; my own journey that brought me to this point.

Good, easy years. Rough, challenging times. Good company, and bad. Times when I knew exactly where I was going, and times when I had to trust the people in front of me. Times when I had to make my own path, whether they led to fruit or destruction.

I turn my focus back on the current climb. I force my aching muscles to pull my body up and up. I hear the others ahead of me, and I know I’m close.

I reach to the top of this ledge, and the others are still nowhere in sight. I follow the path around the edge of the mountain, and discover a view so breathtaking, I could just stop here. I take a moment to absorb it. But this still isn’t the summit, so I can only imagine what’s to come.

I find my five comrades perched on a rock overlooking the entire game park. It is certainly a sight to behold, and I take a moment to rest. Before I know it, Garret is pointing to a bigger, higher rock behind us, and we all run to find the best way up.

Garret, Tony, and Ayanda are already almost all the way to the top, and I just watch. Some people train for months, or even years, to climb mountains. They have the clothes, ropes, and whatever other fancy equipment you use to keep safe. But all I have is my own tired strength and these worn-out purple tennis shoes.

Some people train for years to run a business. Some people study at seminary to become a missionary in a foreign country. I have done none of the preparation, yet here I am, doing exactly those things.

Garret calls down from the rock, “You can see zebras from here!” and I am elated. ZEBRAS?! These are my favorite African animals…besides South African penguins, which would be more than shocking to find on top of this Swazi mountain.

Instead of scaling the giant stone, I climb over the smaller rocks surrounding it, finding ways around pointy trees and dodging a few lizards. And then, I see them.

A young zebra feeding from its mother, and about half a dozen more grazing just beyond those two. They’re so close – just about thirty yards away, if that. They’re so peaceful and beautiful.

I must get closer.

Mama Zebra keeps a close eye on me as I venture closer. About twenty feet from these gorgeous creatures, I can’t help but thinking…

God put these zebras here, just for me.

I might not have climbed to the very top of Execution Rock with the others, but God still had something there, just for me.

Whatever I do, I might not end up in the same place as everyone else, or have the same prize as everyone else, but God has something in store, just for me.