A Time to Rest (Part 1)

There's a rest stop off I-70 as you near Glenwood Springs, CO, several hours' drive from our house.  A paved trail follows the Colorado River from the rest area to the foot of Deadhorse Creek.  From there you can hike to Hanging Lake.

When you set out on this hike, your heart is light: the canyon is beautiful, and the sun is warm.

But soon you encounter the path to Hanging Lake, and your enthusiasm wavers.
The path is narrow.
The narrow way is a climb.
A rocky climb.
A rocky, 1.2 mile long climb, and your destination is 1,000 feet up.

You do not hike to Hanging Lake alone - there are others on the trail.
Some of them encourage you.  Some do not.
But most of the struggle on the hike to Hanging Lake is a lonely struggle.
It is a fight against weakness in your body and weakness in your heart.
It is the fight against the temptation to give up.

There are many children on the way to Hanging Lake.
Those that are with young are both blessed and burdened.
Your children notice things that you would not - things like inchworms and butterflies.
Their antics give opportunity for shared laughter, taking your mind off your fatigue and the ache in your back.
But a parent bears the weaknesses and the fatigue of his children along with his own.

Some have discarded walking sticks, with handholds worn smooth, when they reached the end of the trail.
These sticks will ensure that your feet do not slip.
But there are times on the way when you may need to get on your knees, to climb with all fours.

There are places to stop along the way to Hanging Lake.
To pause look up at the cliffs above and the waterfalls beside.

To breathe in the fresh scent of pine and relish the shade from the now-blistering sun.

But sometimes, when you are still, you look too far ahead and become discouraged with the difficulty of the way before you.
That is why it is best to keep walking with your eyes on the step directly in front of you.
So that your heart does not become discouraged.
So that your feet do not slip.

The end of the hike is the hardest of all.

Hope gets you through.
Faith lifts your weary legs one more vertical step after another.

There is the anticipation of reunion with those who were lost to your sight along the way.

The expectation of beauty that you have never seen before, of hanging gardens, waterfalls, and water, crystal-clear.

And there is the promise of rest.