October 04, 2010

Remembering my pack

Cool, clear mornings like this one - in which I am drinking a strong cup of black coffee, and fresh air is coming through my screen-less bathroom window - I am taken back to the days when my strong back was frequently laden with 40 lbs of camping gear and my soccer-cleat-battered feet were stuffed into my trusty hiking boots.

I haven't been on the trail in over 6 years now.  My "strong back" now has a slight arch, no doubt, from carrying 35 lbs of baby weight out front, three times over.

I am turning 30 tomorrow.  I remember when I was 19 and I spent every cent of my savings (5 years worth of babysitting and candle-carving money), paired with a loan from my Dad, to fly across the world alone and hike the Australian outback.  There was nothing in the world that I feared back then.

Now, 11 years later, I am back to my fighting weight, and my hair is grown long and straight just like it was back then.  I am once again drinking black coffee, and I once again fear nothing.  Alot has happened between that hike and this morning.  As I pack my overnight bag today for the birthday outing that my amazing husband has planned in my honor, I will not be packing a water filter or a camp stove  - but I will be packing my well-worn Bib1e and a heart of gratitude for all the many ways that my Maker has fulfilled my dreams.