Step…by…slow step, I crept along the narrow path as it wound around the mountain’s ledge as faithfully as an old hound dog following its master. The rocks were as sharp as broken glass in some spots and avoiding them was sometimes impossible. My feet ached. My back was tired. I looked down to see the dirt and scrapes all over my legs and wondered…is this journey really worth it?

Looking out over the ledge, all I could see were the dark clouds rolling by angrily above and below me. They seemed to be taunting me; saying that I was unable to complete this climb. But I had to go on. Not because of the reward that was promised to me at the end, but because of the expedition itself. This path was created, or being created, for me; its only purpose was to save me. I knew that turning back would mean only one thing: death. I couldn’t go back.

Every now and then, the enemy would divert my attention from what lay ahead. I would glance over my shoulder to see where I had come. Sometimes just a glance of my past alone would be enough to make me want to give up. How could I have come through all of that fire and heartache of my past and have survived? It was painful just to remember all of the times I had gone backwards even when He was calling me to follow.

He was my Savior. He is my Savior. The King of the universe came to me, in all of my despair and sinfulness, and took my hand to pull me away from the deadly ground I was on. He wiped me clean and set my feet on the first rock which was the beginning of my journey with Him. He knew the only way I would stay alive was to reach the top of the mountain. Even though I couldn’t see Him during the climb, His words were constantly pouring into my heart. Words that encouraged me. Words that inspired me and strengthened me. Without them, I know I would not have gotten as far as I had.

Some days were beautiful. I remember one morning, waking up and looking over the panoramic expanse peacefully dwelling beneath the mountain. Birds and flowers reminded me of His beauty and mercy and the rising sun was so warm, I could barely contain the comfort it gave me. Days like these made it worthwhile. But days when the storms would crash over me and nearly make me lose balance on the narrow ledge seemed to threaten my life just as much as the fire below me.

Every time I hesitated to move on or felt the pressure of the mountain’s wall threatening to close in on me, He would speak to me again with words so soft and full of light that I could almost…almost see Him. I wanted to see Him. Just see His face, His eyes, His hands and feel His loving embrace. He gently explained that it could not happen; not yet. But one day, He would hold me like a child and I would see and feel His love surround me and shine from His eyes. A love that I could never imagine!

Oh how I longed for that day! That day when I could jump into His lap and hear Him laugh; walk with Him, hand in hand, and call Him “Daddy.” That day would come and I knew it. Sometimes that thought alone would push me to continue. So I did.

“One step at a time” I told myself as I pushed forward toward His voice calling me from afar. Why couldn’t I see Him? He sounded so close to me, yet I knew He was too far ahead for my eyes to see. What was He doing so far away? Why could He not walk beside me? These questions were not always of doubt, but often times the enemy would cause doubt to rise up even when I didn’t want it to. Liar, as I called the enemy, would tell me things like “He is pushing you up this mountain to ridicule you. He doesn’t want to save you; only to embarrass you.” I knew these were lies, but on cloudy days, they were somehow easier to believe.

“Why don’t you think he ever helps you over the steeper rocks?” Liar would whisper to me. This I definitely questioned. Why couldn’t my Savior, my best friend, be with me to lend me His hand? Was He not the King of everything? Was He not the Lord of the world? Was He not the Creator of Heaven and Earth? Wasn’t He capable of reaching out His hand to me from His throne?

So I called to Him. I asked Him these questions which wrestled around in my head. I wondered if He would answer me. For days He didn’t. Or at least I didn’t hear Him. I kept climbing.

One slip caused me to lose my balance and I fell onto the hard rocks underneath my feet. Oh how my arm and side burned with pain. I sat there, yes, in pity. It didn’t matter what was right or wrong; I was hurting and I wanted someone to feel sorry for me. As the tears slid down my cheek, I heard His voice. His comforting words yet again had power. This power was healing and all I had to do was accept it. How hard could that be? Harder than I thought. Without being healed, I was safe right here. I wouldn’t have to risk another fall if I didn’t get up. He told me to get up. I told him I was tired and scared. He told me He loved me.
I got up.

As I climbed farther, I began to notice the pain was slightly fading from my prior stumble. I thanked Him as I moved forward. But even though His goodness was more than I understood, I still questioned why I could not be with Him. Why was I created to take this climb on my own? Why was I meant to carry on with no help? I couldn’t see it then…but there was so much I didn’t understand, then, that I do now.

You see, at one point near the starting of my journey, I thought the path was premade and all I had to do was scale it. I was wrong. Each step of the path was being set forth before me. Each portion of the path was made of heavy boulders which I could never have moved myself. He was ahead of me, pushing each boulder down from the mountain and placing it for me to walk upon. Each boulder had His stain of blood and love on it. Why was it love? If only you could have seen my fate had I not climbed up this mountain of refuge! The pain and agony that awaited me if I had stayed on the ground below would have been more than the Liar himself could bear.

I deserved it. I deserved the punishment of such agony. It was I who had made the mistakes and had sinned causing my beautiful, heavenly Father sadness. He could have left me there, with good reason. But His love for me—well—beyond words. He saved me. To do so, He had to build the bridge for me to cross over to safety and into eternal life.

Yes, His constant building of the path before me was nothing but love. And He took all of the burden on Himself. He formed the path; I just had to walk on it.

Not only was He sacrificing His comfort and health…even His life to rescue me, He spent every moment speaking to me and encouraging me to keep going. If anyone had the right to complain of suffering, it was Him. But never once did He complain. Do you know why? Because He said I was worth it.

I made it to the top, the last portion of the journey. The last rock I had to stand on before I entered into life forever with Him. He reached out His hand—at last I saw His scarred, yet strong hand—He pulled me up to Him. Before I could even bear to look into His eyes which shined like the sun, I looked at His hands and feet which were scarred and bruised for me. His shoulders, I knew at one time, bore the burden of my sin, were now my resting place of comfort forevermore. I began to cry. So many times I had complained and wallowed in my own pity, while He was carrying the larger burden which would have crushed me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I love you.”—Jesus Christ