Uncomfortable Growth
I knew I was going to fall eventually. It was inevitable. The combination of tennis shoes, snow, and a steep upward slope just didn’t look promising. My husband, Kevin, and I were on a belated honeymoon in Estes Park, Colorado for a week of hiking in the mountains. When planning the trip, I had envisioned perfect spring weather -- 65 degrees and clear skies for all the trails we wanted to explore in Rocky Mountain National Park. I couldn’t wait to get away from the hustle and bustle of life to reflect on God’s beautiful creation; after all, the mountains of Colorado had always held a special place in my heart as a place of spiritual retreat and healing. But as we approached our first trail ( comfortingly named “Glacier Gorge” -- what were we thinking? ) two things became clear: snow still covers the Rocky Mountains in May, and Kevin had overestimated my hiking abilities. To him, the snowy 1000-foot elevation climb looked exciting. To me, it looked… not exciting. “Umm, Kev...