Go Tell It On A Mountain

I have been subtly dropping hints to my friends for several months that I just wanted to be on a mountain, any mountain, sometime this summer.  Along with all of the other things on my summer “to do” list, it didn’t seem like my mountain ambitions were going to come to fruition this year.

BUT THEN while I was having the adventure of a lifetime in Haiti though, I got what I asked for and then some.  Our group was told that we would be going on a 4 or 5 mile total hike to see the Citadel, the ruins of an old unfinished fort that marks the highest point in Haiti.  As soon as we were told about the excursion, my heart skipped a beat.  Standing at the base of the mountain that leads to the Citadel, it skipped two.  

At the mountain’s base lies the beautiful remains of a castle formerly inhabited by a King of Haiti.  From that vantage point, after I got over feeling like I was in the ruins of Cair Paravel (ala Prince Caspian), I looked up the mountain and knew that this hike would be more than the casual walk that was advertised.  Regardless, I just wanted to be on top of that mountain. whatever. it. took.

Would you believe it was like 7 miles to the top?  [Not to mention the 7 miles back, all in 100 degree heat].

Seven beautiful but treacherous miles of narrow, stoney, goat/donkey excrement laden mountain trails, the majority of which entailed hiking up incredible inclines.  It is experiences like this one that make me wish that memories were better and words were better so I could describe exactly how difficult it was, and exactly how much I wanted to be at the top.  Sometimes they just fail you though.

Speaking of failure, another important point to mention is that for the majority of the hike, I was followed by a Haitian man named Willie, and his donkey, Blue Jean.  Willie and Blue Jean, along with a whole caravan of other individuals who solicit their donkeys for rides up the mountain, followed us and told us that we had only traveled 1km (no matter how far we had actually traveled), that we looked tired, that we would never make it the long way to the top without their help.  In other words, we had hecklers.  

Every few minutes Willie would call over to me that he hadn’t forgotten me, and that he would be there when I needed him.  He was very nice about all of it, but very persistent.  Many times I considered whether or not I would have to actually take him up on it even though my pride made me want to make it on my own and I was terrified of the prospects of riding a horse up the steep hills that lacked guard rails.  

Just as I thought I was about to have to bow out, my sweet new friend, Allee, suggested that we have a group prayer.  We held hands and together we prayed for physical strength, something I don’t think I had ever asked God for before, probably because I had never tried to stretch myself physically before.  I had never wanted something this badly though.  Never.

Soon after we stopped to pray, our caravan of hecklers gave up on us and went down the mountain.  That’s when I knew I could do it.  And. I. Did. It.  We did it.

Inching our way up

On the home stretch

At the highest point in Haiti, feeling on top of the world.

This is all my heart wanted for months.  Beautiful.  

For months, all I wanted to do was be on a mountain, any mountain.  As with many of my other deep heart wants, Haiti gave me answers to “why.”  

From atop the mountain that holds the Citadel, I was able to see all of the tiny but seemingly vast country that is Haiti- a country I loved before I ever made it there- and pray for its future.   I was able to take in exactly how beautiful God painted that country to be.  I was able to overcome physical and environmental obstacles to satisfy something I knew I needed to do.  I was able to feel able.  

I couldn’t explain to you how achy my legs felt, how wheezy my breathing sounded, how sweaty I was, or exactly how heavy my backpack became.  You had to have been there.  You have to go.  

If you have a big dream, I would recommend taking it to a mountain and taking it to God.  From such a high place, you can see a speck of his beautiful vantage point, and it’s enough to make you long for Heaven- a place where you can see his vantage point perfectly.  It’s all I wanted for me, and it’s all I want for you, friends.  

It may take me a few weeks for me to be ready to talk about the rest of what Haiti taught me, specifically to be able to talk about the perfect, patient children who spent the week with me at summer camp.  As soon as I’m ready, you’ll be the first ones to know though. :)

Thanks for reading!

Jess