An Uphill Climb

This past weekend my family took a trip up north to the sand dunes. After an early morning, a long car ride, and a picnic, we arrived at the park where we would be spending most of the day. I was super excited, and after the necessary lathering on of sunscreen, gathering of water bottles, and changing clothes and shoes we were finally ready. We walked up a shady, narrow strip of sand and arrived at the top of a giant sand dune overlooking mound after mound of sand. The surface of the sand was blurry as the wind gently tickled the top layer of grains. The sun beat down, refreshing us after a stale car ride. Squinting into the distance, we saw the blue waters of Lake Michigan, seemingly endless in the glistening sunlight. On our left Silver Lake beckoned invitingly... But we were here for the real deal: Lake Michigan. We decided to trek across the sand dunes to the distant lake, instead of settling for the closer, smaller one.

It seemed like a good idea at first. We were full of energy. We enjoyed the view. The sand felt good between our toes. We had plenty of water. After 45 minutes, and dune after dune, we were becoming a bit discouraged. We didn't seem much closer to the lake. There were only a few other people who had attempted this, and soon we had strayed away from the area where most families were and we were wandering through what seemed like an endless desert of sand, pretty much by ourselves. I knew that even if we got to Lake Michigan, I didn't know if we'd have the energy to get back... or enough water for that matter (knowing how much I like my water... I was trying to ration, but it was getting difficult). So of course, being my usual self, I might have panicked a little bit.

Despite some of these setbacks, though, we continued on. In some areas, the sand burned our feet. It took all we had to keep our mouths from crying out as we scrambled to quickly slip into our sandals or flip-flops. In other areas, it looked like a short-cut through some tall grass might be a better idea. But the tall grass was sharp and painful. We were always looking for a path that wouldn't require us to lose any elevation unnecessarily. Going uphill was the most frustrating. With every step, it seemed we were sinking backward more than forward, the flip-flops digging in between our toes.

Finally, we reached the tip of the last dune, and looked down on the gloriousness of the lake below. It seemed to touch horizon to horizon. That feeling of accomplishment, of looking back and seeing how far we'd come... the water lapping against our burned feet, cooling us. The wet sand oozing between our toes. It was worth it.

I like to think in metaphors. And I can't help but see this as a metaphor for where I feel like I am in life... I feel like I've set out on a journey where I don't really have the option of turning back. There are days where I don't feel equipped. There are days that I feel like I'm going more backwards than forwards. There are days that I'd much rather settle for a momentary satisfaction than long-term joy... there are days when I think a shortcut will be worth it, and in fact it just stings. Sometimes I feel alone, like I'm being completely stupid for attempting this journey. But in the end, it is worth it.