Trail to Conquer

I let my eleven-year-old camp overnight in the wilderness with his two young uncles and a teenage cousin. In the morning, they would tackle a 20 km trail up a mountain rising 800 m. My son’s best buddy, his eleven-year-old cousin, declined the invitation: too hard. My son runs eight-minute miles and thirteen-and-a-half-second hundred-meter dashes. He’s won triathlons and the town 5K; I didn’t doubt his ability. His wilderness savvy? Yes. His knife-handling safety? Most definitely. His spiritual filter to distinguish between virtuous, praiseworthy, and not-so-much-either? You betcha. But his physical ability to conquer the trail? Not at all.

As my husband and I drove him to his uncles’, he smiled, he stamped his feet, he just about quivered with anticipation.

“I hope I can do it,” he grinned beneath his ball cap.

“If we didn’t think you could do it, we wouldn’t send you,” I assured him.

Lately I’ve heard myself emoting variations on my eleven-year-old’s ambition. I’m cherishing my marriage. I’m raising six sons. I’m affecting to direct my local church group’s young women organization. I planted a vegetable garden, though I neglect more than tend it. I make superficial effort to maintain a semi-tidy house (but don’t even ask about the yard). Last month I launched my writing tutoring business, and now I hear my own tremored giggle, “I hope I can do it.” Cliché as the mountain metaphor is, this week, it worked for me. And this weekend, I felt my Father in Heaven assure me, “If I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t send you.”

Gabriel promised Mary, “For with God nothing shall be impossible” (King James Bible, Luke 1.37). Paul promised the Philippians, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Phil. 4.13). I do not doubt those promises. My organization? Yes. My work ethic? Absolutely. My spiritual, physical, mental, emotional, financial capability? You’d better believe it. But my Savior’s capacity to enable my ultimate success? Not at all.

So roll out the trail mix. I’m tying my boots. I’ve got a trail to conquer.