The View From The Top

During my father's illness, he and I would always talk about writing a book someday to chronicle all of our adventures and misadventures as we journeyed through very uncharted territory.

We decided we would tell about the highs and the lows, but we knew in the end it would be a story of triumph.

And the name of the book was going to be "Standing on the Mountain of God," because through the valleys of illness we were determined to *press our way higher* to the prize He had in store for us, to the finish line.

I was thinking about Moses when Amalek came to fight Israel in Rephidim.

Exodus 17:9-13 And Moses said unto Joshua, Choose us out men, and go out, fight with Amalek: tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the rod of God in mine hand. So Joshua did as Moses had said to him, and fought with Amalek: and Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. And it came to pass, when Moses held up his hand, that Israel prevailed: and when he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed. But Moses' hands were heavy; and they took a stone, and put it under him, and he sat thereon; and Aaron and Hur stayed up his hand, the one on the one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. And Joshua discomfited Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword.

Moses made it to the top of the mountain. And he did what he was supposed to do. By lifting his hands he declared his dependence and faith in God and through drawing near to Him through prayer, faith and obedience he had all of the tools in his hand to help Israel achieve victory.

But, during the course of the fight, he became weary.

And in his weariness he began to droop. His prayers faltered, his hands dropped, his back ached.

When that happened someone was there to help him continue on. Someone was there to say, "OK, I know you are tired, let me help to hold you up so you can *press on.*"

And then there was Joshua, down in the midst of the battle, leading the charge against the enemy.

I know that my father became tired. Oh, he fought, he fought hard. But, there were times when the fight would drain out of him.

That's where we came in, to hold him up. And that's when we would go ahead of him in the battles of the spirit and fight when he was not able.

Did my Dad make it to the top? You bet. And the most beautiful part of it all is that we were right there with him, we were there to help hold him up and we were there to see him become victorious over the battle he had fought so long and hard.

Today, I am still writing his story, the story of victory. And I stand high on the mountain of God, looking back at all the miles we journeyed as a family up until this point.

And, I look through the tears of one who has won and lost at the same time, knowing that the view from the top is bittersweet.

I'm thankful today. Thankful for the blessings in the thorns of my life. Knowing that had God chosen a different path for us I would not have the same *view* I do today. Thankful for ALL of it. I can't complain.