Before I entered the meadow today, I saw a brief vision of me scaling a mountain.  A tall, very tall mountain.  I felt overwhelmed.

I walked to the picnic bench where my Lord was sitting, waiting for me.  In the distance I saw the mountain.  “Oh no, I should have guessed,” I said.  “This can’t be good.”  I am in awe of how people scale the sides of mountains, holding on to who knows what and reaching for little crevices that can barely be seen.  It is a daunting challenge to me. Something in which I have no interest.

“No,” the Lord responded.  He reached across the table and took both of my hands in his.  “I would never ask you to go climb that mountain alone.  Never.”  He let me know that our relationship was not like what I’ve seen in movies, like Lord of the Rings, and others.  “I would never send you alone on a mission – a dangerous, nearly impossible quest – to bring back some token, some treasure, . . . just to please me.  I will never ask that of you.

“When it’s time to climb the mountain,” he continued, “I will go with you. We will ascend it together, hand in hand.  I won’t let you fall.  And I will never ask you to go alone.”

That was a relief.