Pen y Fan

 

Sometimes you find yourself doing things that you’ve always claimed you’re hopeless at. Like editing, or in this case walking up Pen y Fan, in the Brecon Beacons. I’m not a keen walker, and my children only walk because they don’t have many other options. Which is why we now have a dog. Goldie loves walking, the kids love Goldie, so we all end up walking.

A few weeks ago, I had a child-free weekend, the first one in ten years, so on Saturday, I decided to take Goldie on a proper hike. She is young, and therefore limited in how far she should/could walk, but Pen y Fan was something I had heard about a lot. I looked into it, and as the weather up high was expected to be great, Goldie and I set off Saturday morning towards the Brecon Beacons.

Welsh hills always remind me of Rosemary Sutcliffe's books, especially when covered in mist. That Saturday, the sky was blue as can be, but still, there is something about hills without roads, looking still and mysterious. Pen y Fan is a wonderful experience. The path is pretty civilised, there were people everywhere, and my Dutch legs and lungs were not amused.

I repeated the climb the following Friday, this time with my three younger children. Again, the weather was glorious, but it was a lot less crowded. Even so, it’s hard to imagine the place deserted and dangerous. Somehow, glorious weather doesn’t seem to match awful deeds. It’s harder to plot and plan around that kind of setting whilst listening to children discussing the best Minecraft Tactics, or wondering which snack they will be eating next.

I was impressed with how well we’d done, although I was relieved when we got back to the car park without any accidents or disasters. I might still choose editing over walking if I was able to actually edit, but sometimes we need to simply step out and load up with snacks, maps and torches. Sometimes we can be grateful for a clear path, other times, we might have to go slower and pray for guidance. There can be difficult bits, where we take a long time, wondering if we have missed a side track. Maybe like my children, we groan that we’ll never get there, just to be surprised around the next bend, seeing the summit closer than ever. It’s trusting God with our journey, following Him and leaning on Him. It’s being sustained by Him and resting in Him whilst enjoying the view, the scenery and being inspired anew.

And it’s the joy of reaching the summit, whichever way that looks like. Maybe it’s holding a copy of our book, maybe it’s hearing from people that have been touched by our stories, or maybe it’s simply finishing the writing of a piece. Whatever your summit looks like, enjoy it! Revel in it, and don’t rush off to the next mountain.