I like how I feel when I’m done. Like I did it. I like the burn in my legs because I know the burn means I’m pushing myself, getting stronger. When I take the hill I feel good. I’m tired usually and looking forward to being finished, but I feel better when I know I didn’t stop early.
That’s how I want to live my life.
After I got booted from my last home I did not relish the thought of starting over somewhere new again, alone. And even when I boarded the plane in June to return to Africa I did it in faith and some reluctance. I wasn’t sure if I’d find a place or a project again that I could be excited about. But I wasn’t ready to stop early. I didn’t want to quit. Things hadn’t turned out how I had planned at all, way more twists and turns than I’d anticipated, but…it wasn’t time to stop. I wanted to take the hill.
And I am so, so glad I did. I sit here tired and stressed yet exhilarated. I think I have my dream job at the moment (even though it is apparently tiring and stressful) and I marvel at the fact everyday with how the Lord just orchestrated all of this. I never would have dreamt that all of this would be waiting for me over the hill. That in my despair God could still bring me a vocation and people and opportunities that I love. Just like that. Right over the hill.
As I do things that feel beyond my capabilities and live in a place that stretches me everyday; and as I miss my family and dream about fall and cozy blankets and an easy day in life I am still so glad I took the hill. It is a steep climb and I wish there were more moments to stop and rest but I keep pushing because I know in the end I’ll be stronger for it. In the end I won’t have any regrets.
Do it. Take the hill. Always take the hill.