You'll Never Get to Enjoy the View, Until You Make the Climb

We have the extreme good fortune to live in Michigan and, therefore, are surrounded by the Great Lakes. I have had an ongoing love affair with these incredible bodies of fresh water since my early days of the family cottage down the road from Lake Huron. There are countless, treasured memories of laughing, splashing, sitting, and skipping along the sandy shores of endless blue.

Even as an adult I am drawn to those methodic waves—taking in the daily moods of the vast lake. Sometimes it’s brooding; the wind blows and the tumbling waves are angry and dark. Other times the water is playfully emerald-green—when that summer sun shines, revealing streaks of it’s sandbar underbelly and welcoming refreshment. My favorite is when the lakes are a peaceful, glassy smoothness. It’s almost introspective and I’m completely drawn in. Sometimes when it’s serene the water reaches up and blends so completely with the hazy-sky horizon that from my feet at the water’s edge the great lake goes out and on and up and over my head so that I am surrounded by its blue; Submerged in it; Lost in it. It makes a body happy.

We were recently camping in a state park on Lake Michigan and this particular stretch of beach just south of South Haven boasts a tall hill of sandy dunes like nowhere else on earth. Literally. Rugged souls can trudge up the two-hundred-foot bank if they are so motivated, to be able to take in the view from the nosebleed section. My husband, Jim, and I, and then again with our youngest daughter, Grace, took the challenge.

I huffed and puffed, paused and sweated. Then I groaned and plodded along again. The dunes shift as you slog, so it sucks your feet in and kills any kind of momentum you might happen to gain. The sand is hot; the air is hot. I was doing some heavy breathing; reminding me of Lamaze classes, but that was a great number of years ago. Pausing once again, hands on my hips and looking ahead to my husband who was already at the top (the poop), I winced and wished they had a shuttle service.

But it was all good. I put my head down and kept trudging. And when my feet finally found their purchase at the summit, I slowly turned to look back at the lake and smiled. The immediate thought was this: you’ll never get to enjoy the view until you make the climb. Isn’t that such a true statement about many things in life?

The “gratitude grace” comes from the One and Only God and it makes me so joyful (as I tried to reestablish a proper heartbeat) that He made me strong enough, and willing to take on the steep hills in life: the scary challenges, the stuff that’s going to force you out of your comfort zone, the “growing pains” that can really hurt. Because it is only in stepping outside the box that we truly live!

Too bad our world is so keen on stifling the importance of the hard stuff. It is forever wanting to look to the easy ways, going so far as to shun the hardships or struggles in life as worthless and stupid. But that is not true! It is only in taking on the hard stuff that we truly appreciate the blessings all around us. It may be only a simple walk up some dodgy dune, but if I didn’t do it, I would never have been able to see with my own eyes the spectacular view.

And the grace comes to praise Him. He has counted every grain of sand, and smooth rock, and pulse in each wave. He has watched each mood swing of His creation from its first breezy breath. To keep it company He made the fresh-water fish that flow through its body and the seagulls that stand out as crisp, white dots—riding lazily on its immense, blue back, or soaring like freedom, serenading it from above.

Fresh water smells like watermelon, Soothing water, Life-giving water. It was created and given to me as I stood at the summit to gaze across it, drawing me in. I allowed myself to be lost in Him. I stood there and smiled, trying to comprehend the simple things and complex things. God. How great and mighty is my God Who creates all things and makes all things good. I could ponder forever and I’m absorbed into the vast blue depths of my Creator and it is with all my senses that I become one with Him.

One with Him as I stood in the sand. Standing on the summit to enjoy the view— a simple, blue body of water.