After a decade-long uphill climb toward publication, I reached the summit— or so I thought. I signed a book contract. But even as I penned my name on the line, the Lord whispered in my ear.
This is just a ledge. Catch your breath, we’re climbing higher.
By that I knew exactly what He meant. Not that I would climb to heights of fame and fortune, but that I would climb a steeper, narrower path, one that required a strengthening of the faith He’d grown in me thus far.
And I was right.
First it was writing a new book, research to revisions. On a deadline. During my son’s senior year of high school. Then it was deciding what to do next, discovering what story ideas might take root within me. (I’m still climbing this one. Not sure if they’ll want the next ones or not!)
The book released— yet another steep slope to navigate as pebbles slipped under my feet and careened into the abyss. Now it is managing time and energy, both limited resources being pushed to the limit.
My climb might be slower than some. I might lose my footing on occasion, find myself tumbling downhill until the Lord puts a boulder in my way to stop me. But my desire is to set my face heavenward, eyes fixed on Jesus rather than seeking the top of the mountain, shrouded in clouds. I don’t want to worry about what’s up ahead or when I will reach a more restful plateau.
Today my faith muscles are sore. My feet ache and my eyes sting. Yet I take another step, reach for another handhold. Moving forward, uphill, confident that my God will supply all my needs according to His riches in glory— even if that supply consists of a rock to break my fall.