We went to the bookstore this evening after dinner. This is an occasional escape we use in the evenings when we want to get out of the house but there is no where to go. We go to the kids section and they have fun for about an hour and then we come home and they go off to bed.
Well, today I ventured off to the adult section (no… not that adult section) and was browsing through the books. I was int the sport sections (odd, I know) however I found the climbing section. There it was… EPIC. (as I previously mentioned, I’ve been thinking about epics lately)
Traditional epics recount heroic achievement. When climbers talk about an epic, they are talking about a climb that went wrong. (Introduction)
I love reading about epic climbs. The stories of men and women risking everything to achieve a goal. Despite great odds and facing death, both fast and slow, they trudge onward and upward into places few have seen and even fewer have gone. They embrace the challenge and pain head on… they know the cost, from loss of fingers to frostbite to the loss of friends, to the loss of themselves.
Now, I’m not saying that a summit is worth the loss, but rather I admire a spirit that believes in something and is willing to risk everything for that belief. Climbers don’t climb hoping to die… they climb to because they believe in it.
When I read their accounts I am challenged to live out my own epic… an epic of faith that sees that this journey may cost me greatly, but it is a cost I am willing to pay. I’m willing to risk everything, not simply to bask in the glory of some summit, rather to bask in the Glory of the one before whom all the mountains of the earth melt like wax.