Hiking as a Metaphor for Marriage
Just over a year ago Jim and I took up hiking. Prior to that, we did not do an awful lot together. He liked to golf with his best friend, and I liked to read and study, and that's just the way things were. We spent some time together going out for the occasional dinner but did not enjoy a hobby together, unless you count all the years of watching the kids play ball.
After the kids became adults, and we no longer had the common activity of parenting to keep us connected, I recall hoping and praying that somehow we could find something, anything, to re-discover what drew us to each other in the first place. Life can get like that. Careers, children, bills, responsibilities and exhaustion all conspiring together to make true intimate relationship scarce. So sans kids, he spent his free time on the golf course while I spent mine shopping, working, reading or watching TV.
I remember well when we started doing things together. It was just after the Winter Olympics. One Saturday Jim just asked if I wanted to go for a walk. I was surprised because it was just a given that he'd go golfing. The following weekend, he asked the same thing. We started exploring our own city together, driving to little seaside sections of town and spending the afternoon having coffee, strolling parks and talking about God. When we'd exhausted all the city places to explore, Jim suggested we go for nature walks. Our first hike together was up a little hill called Teapot, and we've gradually started doing longer, more difficult hikes. We average a hike every other weekend or so, and these are wonderful times for just talking and enjoying time with each other. I'm loving it. Yesterday, we capped this years hiking season with a hike up Cheam, a 5 hour, switchback hike with a 700 m elevation gain to a peak that is 6,920 feet. It was by far my toughest hike to date. Jim runs a 10 k every night, while I walk back and forth from the TV to the fridge. (Disclaimer: after yesterday, I've decided to take up the treadmill) But, I made it! Believe me, I wanted to quit along the way so many times, but every so often, heard myself saying a little prayer for help with a reminder that I can do all things thru Him who gives me strength (Phil 4:13). (like the prayers I used to pray when Jim and I weren't on the same page emotionally or spiritually).
So, last night I was on my bed, talking to the Father, thanking Him for bringing this all about. He not only gave me strength to do yesterday's hike, but He seems to have used hiking as a means with which He is re-connecting and restoring Jim and me. And at that thought, I was hit with the idea that hiking - at least on a hard long trail like Mt Cheam - is an effective metaphor for marriage.
Take yesterday's hike for example; when we got out of the car at the trail head, we both were pretty excited to get started. It had been an exhilarating ride up on a cliff edged, de-activated logging road that was every bit as fun as it was scary (like dating and courtship).
Once on the trail head, the butterflies took over, and we were both eager to head up the mountain, to get to the top. As we came up and over the first bluff and saw the vast expanse of the back bowl, the breathtaking beauty was somewhat awe inspiring, even if looking up at the trail we had to gain was a bit overwhelming ( like the wedding day).
With happy, eager expectation and full confidence that we can do this, we started off ( like the honeymoon).
After the first initial gain straight up through a beautiful little forest I still had enough energy to not let the fact I was out of breath and labouring stop me. While I started to get thoughts like "This is too hard," Jim seemed to be able to read my mind and kept encouraging me. Our first rest stop was still light hearted and expectant, if just a bit uncomfortable on account of the all the bugs that kept attacking us, but we were still determined to make it to the top (like the newlywed phase).
After the very pretty, shaded forest, the trail opened up into a large mountainside meadow. Maybe in the bloom season the meadow is gorgeous, but yesterday many of the blooms on the alpine flowers were gone, and some plants were decaying in the early fall ( like when reality sets in).
The trail was long, arduous, actually ugly in some places, unless you kept looking behind at the view, rather than the rock and shale footpath ahead (like how we need reminders about why we married each other).
The most boring part of the trail was also quite steep in places, with lots of rocks that could cause a stumble. I had to pay close attention to where I planted my feet. I also had to keep stopping to catch my breath and slow my heart beat. It was hot, the bugs were attacking in droves. I started wondering why I took up hiking in the first place (like when a marriage starts to come under it's first spiritual attack, starting with thought darts from the enemy that try to make you second guess whether or not you made the right choice).
The dust was making my throat and chest hurt. I lost count of how many bugs I breathed in and swallowed (by accident!), and after about my 50th rest stop, I lost sight of Jim (like when familiarity sets in and we just start doing our own thing, "knowing" the other won't mind or even care).
At the half way point we re-connected in a little bowl for some lunch, but at this point, I was too tired to talk even though Jim kept trying to draw me in. I was getting cranky and wanted to give up but Jim stayed patient and was so encouraging (like how love is not easily angered and does not give up).
Even though Jim encouraged me to keep on going, he also assured me he would not be disappointed if I stayed in the bowl while he quickly went to the top and back. I seriously thought about, and told him to go ahead. He did, but as I watched him go, I thought that even though he said otherwise, he probably secretly hoped that I'd finish (like how love is always hopeful).
So, I followed. Jim had to stop every 20 yards or so to wait for me. I could tell he wanted to forge ahead and suspected he must be getting bored waiting for me, but he continued to do so (like how love is not self seeking)
I was getting annoyed, because I kept telling myself that Jim had to be disappointed that I can't keep up; my annoyance was tempting me to give up. We talked afterwards and yes, I was making assumptions, which is always dangerous territory in any relationship but especially in a marriage. But what really had me annoyed was the fact that what started out as a carefree, laughing, enthusiastic hike was quickly becoming a test of endurance, an ordeal of resilience, and not enjoyable at all. This.Was.Simply.Too.Hard (like a real marriage).
The trail was full of switchbacks, some went up and some even went down. Even though I was 2/3's of the way and could see the ridge at the top, I seriously wanted to quit. Jim was so eager to get to the top, I told him to go ahead while I rested at the base of the last steep final leg. I watched Jim go, and when he reached the ridge, instead of going off to look at the views (the reason we'd come), he turned around, remained where I could see him, and waved me on (like how love does not boast and is not proud but seeks to serve).
His big smile and wave compelled me and I made the choice to finish, starting up the last and hardest leg of the climb (like how love perseveres).
Other hikers who were coming down passed me, smiled and said "You're almost there, just one last push, and you're there", while others said "You'll won't regret not quitting, once you get up there, you'll see, it's so worth it". So I sucked up my last surge of energy and pushed my way to the top, while Jim stood up there the whole time waiting for me (like how love is patient in addition to being kind).
Reaching the top was amazing, more than I imagined. I almost cried. Jim was grinning ear to ear, and total strangers congratulated us and offered to take our photos. A younger 20 something couple we'd seen at the trail head said "You guys did great" and my heart was swelled with a sense of accomplishment, but most of all gratitude. I whispered thanks to God for helping me (while also praying Jim would stay away from the edge!) and after enjoying the views and some quiet time together, Jim and I headed back down. As we went, we saw other couples, some with babies on their backs, heading up. We smiled at them, encouraged them, and told them they could do it too (like a reminder that married couples always need to have strong, supportive, loving cheerleaders around them to encourage them thru the tough times, speaking the truth in love and not just agreeing with them that their spouse needs some fixing).
Half way down from the hike, I thanked Jim and told him I was grateful for his patience, his encouragement, and his putting up with my whining. He said, "What whining? You did good." and I immediately resolved to get into better shape so I can keep up with him on other long, steeper, even more challenging hikes ( like how we are called in marriage to put the interests of our spouse ahead of own - think about it, if you're both doing that, then both of you are having your interests met).
So, the moral of the story is that marriage is kind of like a hard, long hike. It has it's ups and downs, it's beautiful, breathtaking moments and it's ugly, arduous, tedious slogs. But if you go together, staying patient and kind with one another, encouraging and supporting one another, while at the same time, giving each other the grace to be the person they are - (perhaps one likes to run ahead while the other likes to take it more slow) - so long as you come back together at points along the way and remind each other why you're in it, you'll always meet at the top. And when you do meet at the top, remember, there's still some downhill to get through. But if you recall the journey and the reasons you enjoy, love and appreciate one another, heading back down, back into the routine of day to day life, can be just as exhilarating as when you both met at the top.
Finally, when you need a reminder about why you took up hiking in the first place, remember, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things" Phil. 4:8
After the kids became adults, and we no longer had the common activity of parenting to keep us connected, I recall hoping and praying that somehow we could find something, anything, to re-discover what drew us to each other in the first place. Life can get like that. Careers, children, bills, responsibilities and exhaustion all conspiring together to make true intimate relationship scarce. So sans kids, he spent his free time on the golf course while I spent mine shopping, working, reading or watching TV.
I remember well when we started doing things together. It was just after the Winter Olympics. One Saturday Jim just asked if I wanted to go for a walk. I was surprised because it was just a given that he'd go golfing. The following weekend, he asked the same thing. We started exploring our own city together, driving to little seaside sections of town and spending the afternoon having coffee, strolling parks and talking about God. When we'd exhausted all the city places to explore, Jim suggested we go for nature walks. Our first hike together was up a little hill called Teapot, and we've gradually started doing longer, more difficult hikes. We average a hike every other weekend or so, and these are wonderful times for just talking and enjoying time with each other. I'm loving it. Yesterday, we capped this years hiking season with a hike up Cheam, a 5 hour, switchback hike with a 700 m elevation gain to a peak that is 6,920 feet. It was by far my toughest hike to date. Jim runs a 10 k every night, while I walk back and forth from the TV to the fridge. (Disclaimer: after yesterday, I've decided to take up the treadmill) But, I made it! Believe me, I wanted to quit along the way so many times, but every so often, heard myself saying a little prayer for help with a reminder that I can do all things thru Him who gives me strength (Phil 4:13). (like the prayers I used to pray when Jim and I weren't on the same page emotionally or spiritually).
So, last night I was on my bed, talking to the Father, thanking Him for bringing this all about. He not only gave me strength to do yesterday's hike, but He seems to have used hiking as a means with which He is re-connecting and restoring Jim and me. And at that thought, I was hit with the idea that hiking - at least on a hard long trail like Mt Cheam - is an effective metaphor for marriage.
Take yesterday's hike for example; when we got out of the car at the trail head, we both were pretty excited to get started. It had been an exhilarating ride up on a cliff edged, de-activated logging road that was every bit as fun as it was scary (like dating and courtship).
Once on the trail head, the butterflies took over, and we were both eager to head up the mountain, to get to the top. As we came up and over the first bluff and saw the vast expanse of the back bowl, the breathtaking beauty was somewhat awe inspiring, even if looking up at the trail we had to gain was a bit overwhelming ( like the wedding day).
With happy, eager expectation and full confidence that we can do this, we started off ( like the honeymoon).
After the first initial gain straight up through a beautiful little forest I still had enough energy to not let the fact I was out of breath and labouring stop me. While I started to get thoughts like "This is too hard," Jim seemed to be able to read my mind and kept encouraging me. Our first rest stop was still light hearted and expectant, if just a bit uncomfortable on account of the all the bugs that kept attacking us, but we were still determined to make it to the top (like the newlywed phase).
After the very pretty, shaded forest, the trail opened up into a large mountainside meadow. Maybe in the bloom season the meadow is gorgeous, but yesterday many of the blooms on the alpine flowers were gone, and some plants were decaying in the early fall ( like when reality sets in).
The trail was long, arduous, actually ugly in some places, unless you kept looking behind at the view, rather than the rock and shale footpath ahead (like how we need reminders about why we married each other).
The most boring part of the trail was also quite steep in places, with lots of rocks that could cause a stumble. I had to pay close attention to where I planted my feet. I also had to keep stopping to catch my breath and slow my heart beat. It was hot, the bugs were attacking in droves. I started wondering why I took up hiking in the first place (like when a marriage starts to come under it's first spiritual attack, starting with thought darts from the enemy that try to make you second guess whether or not you made the right choice).
The dust was making my throat and chest hurt. I lost count of how many bugs I breathed in and swallowed (by accident!), and after about my 50th rest stop, I lost sight of Jim (like when familiarity sets in and we just start doing our own thing, "knowing" the other won't mind or even care).
At the half way point we re-connected in a little bowl for some lunch, but at this point, I was too tired to talk even though Jim kept trying to draw me in. I was getting cranky and wanted to give up but Jim stayed patient and was so encouraging (like how love is not easily angered and does not give up).
Even though Jim encouraged me to keep on going, he also assured me he would not be disappointed if I stayed in the bowl while he quickly went to the top and back. I seriously thought about, and told him to go ahead. He did, but as I watched him go, I thought that even though he said otherwise, he probably secretly hoped that I'd finish (like how love is always hopeful).
So, I followed. Jim had to stop every 20 yards or so to wait for me. I could tell he wanted to forge ahead and suspected he must be getting bored waiting for me, but he continued to do so (like how love is not self seeking)
I was getting annoyed, because I kept telling myself that Jim had to be disappointed that I can't keep up; my annoyance was tempting me to give up. We talked afterwards and yes, I was making assumptions, which is always dangerous territory in any relationship but especially in a marriage. But what really had me annoyed was the fact that what started out as a carefree, laughing, enthusiastic hike was quickly becoming a test of endurance, an ordeal of resilience, and not enjoyable at all. This.Was.Simply.Too.Hard (like a real marriage).
The trail was full of switchbacks, some went up and some even went down. Even though I was 2/3's of the way and could see the ridge at the top, I seriously wanted to quit. Jim was so eager to get to the top, I told him to go ahead while I rested at the base of the last steep final leg. I watched Jim go, and when he reached the ridge, instead of going off to look at the views (the reason we'd come), he turned around, remained where I could see him, and waved me on (like how love does not boast and is not proud but seeks to serve).
His big smile and wave compelled me and I made the choice to finish, starting up the last and hardest leg of the climb (like how love perseveres).
Other hikers who were coming down passed me, smiled and said "You're almost there, just one last push, and you're there", while others said "You'll won't regret not quitting, once you get up there, you'll see, it's so worth it". So I sucked up my last surge of energy and pushed my way to the top, while Jim stood up there the whole time waiting for me (like how love is patient in addition to being kind).
Reaching the top was amazing, more than I imagined. I almost cried. Jim was grinning ear to ear, and total strangers congratulated us and offered to take our photos. A younger 20 something couple we'd seen at the trail head said "You guys did great" and my heart was swelled with a sense of accomplishment, but most of all gratitude. I whispered thanks to God for helping me (while also praying Jim would stay away from the edge!) and after enjoying the views and some quiet time together, Jim and I headed back down. As we went, we saw other couples, some with babies on their backs, heading up. We smiled at them, encouraged them, and told them they could do it too (like a reminder that married couples always need to have strong, supportive, loving cheerleaders around them to encourage them thru the tough times, speaking the truth in love and not just agreeing with them that their spouse needs some fixing).
Half way down from the hike, I thanked Jim and told him I was grateful for his patience, his encouragement, and his putting up with my whining. He said, "What whining? You did good." and I immediately resolved to get into better shape so I can keep up with him on other long, steeper, even more challenging hikes ( like how we are called in marriage to put the interests of our spouse ahead of own - think about it, if you're both doing that, then both of you are having your interests met).
So, the moral of the story is that marriage is kind of like a hard, long hike. It has it's ups and downs, it's beautiful, breathtaking moments and it's ugly, arduous, tedious slogs. But if you go together, staying patient and kind with one another, encouraging and supporting one another, while at the same time, giving each other the grace to be the person they are - (perhaps one likes to run ahead while the other likes to take it more slow) - so long as you come back together at points along the way and remind each other why you're in it, you'll always meet at the top. And when you do meet at the top, remember, there's still some downhill to get through. But if you recall the journey and the reasons you enjoy, love and appreciate one another, heading back down, back into the routine of day to day life, can be just as exhilarating as when you both met at the top.
Finally, when you need a reminder about why you took up hiking in the first place, remember, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things" Phil. 4:8
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