Climbing for the Dogs

 

“I’m so tired!”  Elise said, dragging one leg after the other up a rough, stone step.  “This mountain is too high!”

“We’re almost there,” I said encouragingly.  “Maybe ten more minutes and we’ll be at the top.”

We were climbing Sharptop Mountain.  Supposedly, the trail is a mile and a half from the store at the bottom to the top, but my watch told me it was closer to two miles – a long way for a six-year-old girl to climb, particularly considering that the trail rises about 1,300 feet over its course.

Elaine and I were climbing with Elise, but our other four children had dashed ahead, beating us to the top by many minutes.  I could picture them sitting up on the rocks, watching the world go by and wondering where their slow poke parents were.

When the three slow pokes finally reached the top, Elise looked out.  “We are really high,” she proclaimed.

“You can see a long way,” I agreed.  “Do you think you can see any other countries from here?”

“No, Dad,” she said.  “We cannot.” 

Right she was.  We certainly could not see Canada, Cuba, or Mexico from our perch, some 3,875 feet above the level of the ocean.  I was surprised at how nonchalant and unimpressed with the view she seemed.  To me it was amazing, to her, it was a disappointing reward for a hard climb.

I was worried about the way down.  It is just as far a distance down as it is on the way up, but with Elise’s tired, shorter legs, I wasn’t sure if she would make it down without whining.  What I didn’t reckon on was the dogs.

Not long after we left the summit, we happened on a labradoodle, walking a young a man up the trail.  “Can I pat your doggy?”  Elise asked. 

“Sure, his name is Frodo,” the young man said as Frodo dutifully sat and let Elise pat him.

Soon thereafter, we met another dog, this one named Bobo.  We went through the same ritual and Bobo, apparently glad, to cease climbing for a brief moment, let Elise pat him. 

Other dogs followed – Lulu and Luna and Jelly Fish, among 8 or 9 others.  “I’ve seen so many dogs today!”  Elise gushed to her parents.  “And they all like me!  Next time I climb Sharptop Mountain, I will bring along cards for all of the dogs and give them to them.”

“They might like dog toys or treats better,” Elaine said.

“You’re right, Mom,” Elise said.  “I will bring along pupperoni for them and they will like me even better.  It has been so awesome to hike and see all of these dogs!”

I found Elise’s response to hiking interesting, to say the least.  On the way up, it was a struggle because she really didn’t enjoy what she was doing and while the view is spectacular at the top, it didn’t seem worth the effort to get there.

On the other hand, once she began to meet various dogs, everything changed.  Suddenly, she had a reason to enjoy the hike – and to look forward to the next, tail-wagging friend she would meet.

Jesus told His followers, “I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow!” (John 15:11)

So much of the message of the Gospel is about joy.  I wonder if part of experiencing joy is focusing on the parts of your journey that you actually enjoy.  Emphasizing those things, while getting through the parts you struggle with, brings so much more to the table.

I’m not sure that I would have climbed Sharptop Mountain simply to see the dogs on the path, but for a six-year-old girl, this was all it took to bring a smile to her face on a long trail.