A man wanted to climb a mountain. It wasn't a very large mountain, but a mountain nonetheless. He wanted to get to the top of the mountain and look down on the world around it. He wanted to accomplish something. He wasn't sure what, but he knew once he reached the top things would become more clear. He thought he might need a few items to take along with him on his climb. He took a backpack. In it was a jacket, a water bottle, a few sandwiches, and an apple. He wasn't taking much, and he wasn't wearing very much either. A good pair of hiking shoes, shorts and a t-shirt. That's all he need. After all, he could get up and down the mountain before nightfall.

So he started his ascent up the mountain. The base of the mountain was covered by a thick forest. Everything was wet with dew. The trail was muddy and every so often there would be a puddle to jump across. The weather was mild, the temperature slightly below warm. He still worked up quite a sweat though. The first hour or so of his climb was difficult. It was a steep grade and the mud made the trail quite slippery. In fact there were times he even had to pull himself up the trail grasping the roots of the trees with his hands. It was quite difficult. If the entire climb were like this he might not have continued.

But eventually the grade lessened and he was able to stand upright and walk forward with ease. The forest was still quite dense but it was a little drier at this altitude. During this part of his climb he had the opportunity to think while he walked seeing as the difficulty of the climb had lessened for the time being. He thought about the first part of his climb and how he had defeated his will to give up. After all, the thought of going back had crossed his mind once or twice. Even so, he endured the hardships and had made it through a difficult terrain. He was quite proud of himself.

But not long after that the forest began to thin out a little, while at the same time getting a lot drier. The air was getting thinner and the temperatue began to drop. The grade of the mountain increased slighty and with it the difficulty of breathing increased quite a bit. He took short shallow breaths, his mouth and throat were beginning to get raw. He had to stop. Lightheaded and winded he took a drink from his water bottle. As he sat on fallen tree catching his breath his attention was directed to the hunger pangs in his stomach. He took the apple and a sandwich and ate them. He saved one sandwich for the trip down which he anticpated would be much easier than his ascent.

As he pressed forward with a stomach full of peanut butter and jelly he took his time and slowed his pace. Turning around and looking back on where he had to stop to take a break he became aware of the possibility that the mountain might defeat him. He became more strategic in keeping a steady pace and practiced his breathing. As he focused on inhale and exhale he didn't even notice the landscape changing around him until he was fully immmersed in it. He had hiked up into a fallen forest. The winds at this altitude must have been fierce the night before. All of a sudden the trail disappeared beneath a multitude of downed trees in a sea of wild thickets. There were still enough trees left standing to obscure the sunlight and make it all the more difficult to find the path. Slowly, and with uncertainty he began to climb and stumble over the branches, trunks and roots of the once upright trees. A few times he fell and more than once he was uncertain if he was headed in the right direction. Fear began to simmer inside of him. He thought of being lost, or not finding his way before nightfall. It was too late to turn back because the trail had disappeared behind him. His pace was drastically slowed not only because the obstacles but by fear that seemed to cripple him. He wanted to scream but no one would hear him anyways.

Suddenly, he saw a clearing. His pace quickened and his only motivation was to get to this clearing as fast as he could. As he neared it the fear began to melt away and it was replaced by relief. His relief quickly turned to celebration as he broke through into the clearing. The ground beneath was now rock. There were a few scattered bushes here and there but now he had a clear view of the peak. He had almost made it. Quickly forgetting the fear he had left behind his mind was now consumed with reaching the top. After a drink from his water bottle he hastened his way to the top. But it was farther than it looked.

He walked up the rocky passage towards the peak and began to feel annoyed, almost angry. Angry because the top of the mountain was in his sight and seemed so close, yet it was taking so long to get there. It was getting colder, drier, the air was thinner than ever. He no longer wanted to be climbing, he just wanted to be at the top already. As if his frustration made the time fly by, he arrived at the last 100 feet of the trail before he was at the summit.

It was very steep. The rock beneath was covered with loose gravel cascading down the peak. Every step forward must be calculated and precise. He was so close now he must not make one false move, otherwise he jeopordizes everything he had climbed so high for. Moving very slowyly, he began to feel his joints ache and his muscles become sore. He had been climbing for a long time. He thought maybe he should rest before he makes the most difficult part of his but his appetite to reach the top was stronger than his instinct to rest. He fought exhaustion with every step he took. Breathing once again was becoming difficult. The wind began to pick up as he neared the top. It was colder here. Everything around him began to disappear as his vision tunneled at the peak. Only a little longer. The beginning of his ascent seemed to be a distant memory. He had come so far. Just a few more steps. At this point he began to celebrate his victory. Still in the final stage of his ascent he considered himself there. He had nearly conquered the mountain. He was proud of his strength and endurance. He thought himself great. He stood up straight to have a look around. He wanted to remember how everything was when he took his first step on the peak.

But before he could make that step the combination of his exhaustion and a strong gust of wind ended his journey just a few feet from the top. The rocks had shifted beneath his weight. He had fallen. He heard his leg snap. There was no mistaking that noise. He couldn't walk on it. His phone had no reception. He couldn't yell loud enough over the wind for a person twenty feet away to hear him let alone anyone at the base of the mountain. It was the greatest pain he had ever known. Not his leg, but the sight of the summit just a few feet from where he lay.

With his pride shattered he knew he needed to get off the mountain to get medical attention for his leg. He had to crawl. First he took his jacket and wrapped it around his leg to pressurize it. It was slow going. He was already exhausted from his ascent. His leg was causing tremendous pain. Tears ran down his face. They were cold. After a few mintues he knew he had to drop his backpack. It was slowing him down. Hours had past and he was slowly crawling down the mountain. He was dirty. His leg dragging behind him was completely covered in mud. His hands were raw from grippiing the branches of the fallen trees, pulling himself along by roots and thickets. The moon was rising and the temperature was sinking. Things did not look good. He was probably only halfway down the mountain. The pain had turned from a sharp excruiciating pain to a dull throbbing. He was so tired. He stopped. Just for a moment to rest his eyes...

He awoke. He was in a hospital. He suddenly remembered what had happened. His leg was propped up and in a cast. His cuts and scrapes were properly dressed. A doctor walked in the room and explained the story. Two men had dropped him off and without much explanation had disappeared. The doctor told him about the procedure used to set his leg and about the meds they were using for the pain. Unfortunately, the leg had become infected. He would have to stay in the hospital until the infection was gone, which could take weeks.

Shame overcame him. He spent days in his hospital bed loathing himself. He was so close to the top. He had told his friends and family before he left that he was going to reach the summit. What would they think now? He would have to try again. He had to make it. For his pride. For his reputation. To show everyone else he could do it. To add fuel to the fire he heard of rumors... people were talking about him. Nobody cared enough to visit him, but they saw fit to email him their thoughts about what he did wrong and what he should do next. "Get back on the mountain. Quit wasting your time with that broken leg of yours. Cut it off and get a move on. That peak is waitng for you and we're all expecting pictures from the top."

He thought about it. But he remembered something he read in a book once...With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may count you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.