Today we went to White Sands, New Mexico. The dunes were amazing and a sight to behold. I thought that my feet would burn due to the heat. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that the sand is cool at the dunes and I enjoyed walking barefoot as the family climbed mountains of sand only to sled down the slopes. We all laughed and enjoyed our time together.
It may look easy, but climbing to the top of a dune is a difficult task. My feet sank into the beautiful white scene, and the sand gave way underneath my feet offering me no support as I attempted to climb to the top. It is often frustrating and overwhelming when trying to complete such a lofty venture. My body doesn’t move like it did when I was twenty.
My son, an eleven-year-old ball of energy ran gratefully towards the sandy mountain, anxious to get to the top and slide down as fast as he could. As he began climbing, he experienced the difficulties of maneuvering his way up and down the hills. I reached the top as quickly as I could and started cheering him on. I kept reassuring him that I knew that he could do it, and not to give up. When he made it to the top, there was an expression of complete joy and triumph that ran across his face. He made it, and we had a celebration at the top.
This son of mine accomplished something that was unthinkable a few years ago. He tested his body, and it came through. No bleeding, no aftershocks as a result of attempting something completely out of his capabilities. To anyone else looking on, it was a simple climb by a boy who should do this kind of thing in his sleep. My son struggles to build up strength that he lost after spending a year in a wheelchair. With time, it gets better and better.
Today, I am grateful for my amazing son, as he continues to teach me lessons about the human struggle. I learn how to be bold and test the limits of what I think is possible. He reminds me to reach for goals, even after a time of struggle. Praise be to God that we can learn from the youngest to the oldest. Everyone is here possessing a special gift that, when shared, makes the world a better place.
Oh, and we named the white and sandy mountain. We call it “Mount Midge,” in my son’s honor. That is a family nickname that we call him. Today, he claimed victory over his mountain of struggles to stand at the top of a dune and look at the mountains in the distance, begging for discovery.
From a Pastor's Point of View 