Our family recently took a long trip from our hot, dry area in the plains to the mountains. We enjoyed the (much!) cooler weather and went out hiking nearly every day.
The hiking trails varied. Some were gentle in their ascent and others were quite steep. Some were along the mountainsides and open to the cold wind, some along shady forest paths, others led to lakes or waterfalls. There were muddy paths, gravel walkways, rocky trails, and tree root staircases.
The varied terrain created certain challenges. Wet, muddy paths can be slippery. Tree roots doubled as tripping hazards. Rolling rocks make for less than solid ground. I found I had to keep my eyes looking down and concentrate only on the path directly in front of me to avoid losing my footing.
Every so often, amid those higher elevations, I would have to stop to catch my breath. The forced pause allowed me not only to take in extra oxygen, but to take in the surroundings as well: bounding squirrels, flowing waterfalls, a cathedral of trees arched overhead, chirping birds, and crystal clear lakes. The forced pause also permitted me to see how far we’d come on the chosen path.
Sometimes in motherhood our path is rocky or slippery or full of tripping hazards. The next nap time, the next load of laundry, the next meal, or the next snuggle, the next minute is all we can handle. We must focus only on what is directly in front of us, on the calendar or in person, to make it through that day or that season.
In the midst of your motherhood, you will also have to stop to catch your breath sometimes—maybe by accident, maybe by force. When you do find yourself in that pause, look around you and take it in. Notice the kids playing nicely together. See the teen being silly or helping another person. Appreciate those nice vacuum lines on the carpet or the cleared counters for the five minutes it lasts. Take in the scent of flowers—in a vase, in a garden, in a chubby little toddler hand.
Look at how far you’ve come. Maybe your baby slept four whole hours last night! Maybe your child can read you a story or help around the house now, or you have a kid away at college. You’ve helped your child feed himself, tie his shoes, ride a bike, write an essay, drive a car, prep for college, even start his own family.
Look up and see how far God has brought you.
And then, put your head back down to concentrate on the path ahead of you as you once again push forward. I hear there’s a spectacular view at the end of the trail.
“The higher we go, the better we shall hear the voice of Christ.”—Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati