I decided to make the most of the longest day of the year by taking myself off to the hills for a bunch of firsts:
first
solo hill walk | wild camp | summit sleep | bivvy bag
Boy was it worth it!
The view from the summit
The view from my bed
Sleeping arrangements for the night
The brilliant view the next morning…
In case you needed a reminder. Found in Rothesay.
As is now traditional, we went on a little camping trip at the end of May.
The Isle of Bute is a forgotten gem – I do believe I have found my favourite island.
Today* I tried to climb a hill.
My best friend’s six year old climbed it.
The girl who’s never climbed a hill in her life got to the top.
I should be able to do this.
But with every step my body is screaming at me,
“You can’t do this today.”
Today.
That’s the word I miss.
All I am hearing is, “you can’t do this”, and it’s breaking my heart.
One year on and my energy is
still sagging,
still unpredictable,
still turning great days into insanely frustrating ones in the blink of an eye.
I trudge back down the path, gutted to be accepting defeat.
I tell myself the hills will always be there, and I know it’s true.
But I wanted to get to the summit today.
There are no shortcuts in life.
The hill I tried to climb was Ben Nevis, but it was also anxiety.
I only made it into the foothills, but it was higher than I got yesterday.
I will be glad for the day the Lord has made;
this day
that is disappointing
that leaves me frustrated
where I watch from the sidelines
as others do the things I long to.
I will be glad.
*Today was actually a few weeks ago now.
Frolicking in the sunshine to celebrate Marie’s decade shift.
More on Flickr.
Short, local breaks are sometimes the best…
Highly recommend Gorsebank campsite.
I had the extreme privilege of volunteering and working for Christian Aid a few years back, and I was blown away by the life-transforming potential of their work.
To celebrate their 70th anniversary, I’m joining them to climb 70 Munros…. or at least, as many of them as I can!
Number 1: At the summit of Beinn Ghlas on Saturday
If you can, please give generously to this incredible charity.
Another winter arrives, bringing the cold front with it.
The joy of sun on my face is replaced with the sharp, upward thrust of pain, of memories of loss.
The cold front of apathy, of anger, settles over me like snow on undisturbed ground.
In the midst of this, there is Thanksgiving. Tonight, my house will be full, the table will be overflowing, and
we
will
feast.
“The dinner party is a true proclamation of the abundance of being – a rebuke to the thrifty little idolatries by which we lose sight of the lavish hand that made us.”
[Robert Farrar Capon]
I believe in a great big God – one who is so far beyond my understanding. I will never understand November. There are unanswered questions, persistent doubts. But there is also this: a God who is weaving a future I can’t even imagine.
“I want to cultivate a deep sense of gratitude, of groundedness, of enough, even while I’m longing for something more. The longing and the gratitude, both. I’m practicing believing that God knows more than I know, that he sees what I can’t, that he’s weaving a future I can’t even imagine from where I sit this morning.”
Amen, Shauna.
Had a lovely few days in London last weekend, wandering around newly discovered neighbourhoods with a colleague and attending the Christian New Media conference.
Walking Edinburgh with an American is a revelation. Every two steps involves a pause, a photo, and a superlative.
Okay; I exaggerate (but only slightly).
As we take in beautiful buildings that now house H&M or Starbucks, I realise how little I notice them anymore. And this from someone who would consider herself observant, drawn to beauty and wonder.
I’ve become numb to beauty. Beauty has numbed me.
// There’s an enemy among us
And he stole as best he could //
We have a very real and skilled enemy.
He comes to steal and destroy in place of the life Jesus longs to give us.
Which leads me to Edinburgh. To the city of tourists.
To the wonder I see on my friends’ face as she treads streets older than her country.
// I want, I want to be seen
With a fresh pair of eyes //
How I long for a fresh pair of eyes.
To see the world anew with wonder and childlike joy.
To relinquish cynicism and discover that it’s been holding me prisoner all along, not me holding it.
To discover that when I make space, the life-to-the-full we’ve been promised will rush in and fill the void.
// I am empty
In my end you are my beginning //
*Lyrics quoted can be found on this Spotify playlist.
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