Stairs and Life Lessons

Me and a couple friends went camping at Cloudland Canyon in Northwest Georgia this week. For years I have seen pictures of this state park and have really wanted to go there to see the sights--breathtaking sunsets and sunrises, picturesque ravines and canyon walls, and graceful rivers and waterfalls. But, had you told me what really awaited me there, I don't think I would have gone. Allbeit my breath was taken away, but not as I had anticipated. What did I find that left me breathless? Not sunsets or rises, not ravines or canyon walls, not rivers, not waterfalls. But stairs. Endless stairs, zigging and zagging, stacked one upon another for as far as I could see.

526 stairs to be exact. Not to mention the fact that we hiked over two miles of narrow paths and hills just to be rewarded with daunting stairs. And we went down and then back up EVERY ONE of them. 1052 total steps. To put this in perspective, most staircases for a normal story in a house are about 12 steps. In order to climb 1052 steps, you would have to traverse the up and down of your household staircase 88 times. Go and do it. I'll be here when you get back. And, after you finish, if you don't want to go outside and kick your neighbor's dog, then I count you a saint in my book.

In theory, there was actually a point to these monstrous stairs. On a normal day in Cloudland Canyon, there is a creek. This creek actually helped carve the canyon out over thousands and thousands of years. And as this creek makes its way down the canyon, it forms a waterfall and a beautiful pool where the stairs end. The problem we faced is that there had been a serious shortage of water, some may call it a drought, in this region of the state. Thus, when we got to the bottom of the stairs, there was no waterfall. This was not really a surprise to us because on the way down the steps it began to occur to us that we probably wouldn't see a waterfall, as we had seen no creek. Putting two and two together, no creek or source meant no waterfall.

The idea of turning back before we reached the bottom came up from all three members of this expedition. I mean, the weather was dreary and overcast, it was starting to drizzle, and nightfall was fast approaching. We really had little incentive to go on and stare at a dry rockface and an empty riverbed. But, honestly, there was something inside me that didn't settle when thinking of turning back after coming so far. So we kept going, because turning back would have left regret. I'm not a huge fan of giving up on something. In fact, I will often exhaust myself and others around me simply to complete a task I began. Whether the task is worth completing all the time is another story, but quitting in the middle of something takes something from me. Not to say I never quit, but when I do, I give a part of me up. And I hate doing that.

So, we went on... and on and on and on. Returning up the stairs that seemed simple to travel down was quite a feat. It was on the way back up that the thoughts of returning halfway before began to make a lot of sense. Burning thighs, shortness of breath, and the haunting realization that at 22 I am in terrible shape, seemed to mock me as I struggled up all 526 stairs. But I made it, all the way. And there is nothing that can take that from me. Ever.

The lesson I learned here is not something unheard of, and I won't even say it's not a cliche. But what I was reminded of was to finish what I started. There was a journey I started years ago to pursue what God has called me to be. Along the way, I have looked for markers and snapshots that would satisfy my longing to arrive. We see things, as humans, in instants and moments. Seeing the big picture, and the way things will pan out is impossible for us. But a picture defines a moment, and without a series of moments and pictures, the movie and the process of life never takes its final form and never makes sense. We will not arrive if we do not finish what we started. Or better yet, we will not arrive if we do not let God finish what he started. He sees the finished product, the outcome of a life of following Christ, the whole movie.

The journey may seem long and, along the way, we may wonder, "Why not turn back?" But satisfaction comes in completing the journey, and perfection is found simply in striving for God moment to moment, and the time between the snapshots. There are stairs to climb, many of them. Whether or not we know where they lead or how we will make it are not for us to worry about. What is ours is to trust in the God of the universe, to trust that the one "who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6).

Go on, climb those stairs.