Black

The darkest, coldest moment of the day is an hour before dawn, when the moonlight has set, starlight has faded, and the sun has yet to lift its sleepy head.  This time embodies the rawest tone of black that I know.  Neither twilight or dawn, it floats in a nebulous world of its own.  So sacred is this moment, that even friends of the night hush in respect and shadows cease to exist.  Any disturbance of such solemn darkness would be a transgression of nature.

And, there I was, in the midst of it all.  As if it couldn’t get any darker, I was cloaked in a dark canopy of a forest, suspended at an elevation of 10,000 feet, miles away from any civilization that attempts to combat the tenacity of this darkness with street lamps and glowing fluorescent signs.  And, somehow, I found myself breathing and moving through this blackness.  The reason that summoned me out of my net of comfort and safety into this remote inky twilight zone was the lofty mission of completing my second ascent of the infamous Long’s Peak, the prized 14,259 foot treasure of Colorado’s Rocky Mountain National Park.  Even the overbearing darkness couldn’t overshadow this pursuit.  

But, I was far from alone in this blackness.  I could hear the quick breaths of three bodies steadily climbed in pace behind me.  My family was accompanying me on this journey.  A black trail doesn’t have to be traveled alone.  And, the blackness was far from dark.  Strapped to each of our heads was a brilliant white light that pierced the darkness, revealing a well worn trail made smooth by tens of thousands of feet before us.  These feet were witnesses to the mystery of the dark unknown that laid before us.  For, although we were not alone, not overcome by the dark, and knew our destination, the black clouded any frame of reference for the mountain before us.  Our headlamps simply illuminated four feet ahead, no more, no less.  The only choice we had was where to plan our next footing.  Once, we heard a roaring waterfall raging off to our left, but it was cloaked in darkness, invisible to the eye.  There were times when we would be gasping for breath, as our feet followed a steep incline that, as far as our little lights could strain in the darkness, had no end.  But, we continued, because our minds were completely consumed with the goal that stood before us.  We walked like this, one step in front of the other, cutting through the black air, for three hours, until the first rays of dawn started to glow.  The darkness was finally pierced.

With each rising ray of light, the darkness melted away to expose the imposing view looming in front of us.  The jagged rocks told us that the hardest was yet to come, and our hearts started to sink, even though we had already conquered so much.   But, we had come to far to turn back and dismiss all the miles, burning legs, and gasping lungs that had carried us this far.  So, we pressed on, and by 7:45am, we had summited a world-famous mountain by the time most people were eating breakfast.  Not only that, but of all the hundreds of people who attempted to climb Long’s Peak that day, we were the second group to summit for the day (by only a few minutes...grrr).  We flew up that mountain, and everyone was astounded at our time.  

Reflecting back on that great climb, I found my spirit most disheartened when the darkness pulled back to expose the enormous task in front of me.  Even though I was on the same trail all along, I was not afraid until I saw the jagged silhouette of my fear against the morning sky.  And, at that moment, I became thankful for the darkness that had cloaked my trail to that point, causing me to only see one step at a time.  Any more, and the psychological intimidation would have crushed our spirits, significantly slowing down our time and energy.  Seeing your fear is frightening.  As black and daunting as the darkness can be, it can be a blessed veil that removes needless distraction during the climb.  

I serve a mountain-moving, star-breathing, light-piercing God who commands the darkness.  He sets us on a well-worn trail, places a light on our head, gives us fellow climbers to greet the dawn, and climb a mountain together...because we all climb mountains.

I am thankful for the foggy moments of life, when darkness clouds my future, and I am forced to simply focus on putting one foot in front of the other.  God can use darkness to blot out the peaks we never would have attempted to climb, had we actually caught a glance of them at the beginning of the hike.