Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
    to the temple of the God of Jacob.
He will teach us his ways,
    so that we may walk in his paths.
Isaiah 2:3

I am thankful for legs that feel like I climbed a mountain yesterday. Actually, I suppose I did. We helped aunt move the last of her possessions out of the house she has lived in for 40+ years. Lots of heavy lifting with the legs. But that’s not why they are sore.

It’s been a long climb, and at times a painful journey for my spirited god-mother. We, her family and friends, have climbed some of the way alongside her in support, but most of it she has hiked alone with her heavenly Papa. And I know He alone upholds her.

Finally moving out of her house that holds both precious and aching memories has been prolonged by one detour after another. Many switchbacks in the trail and several false summits teasing. But yesterday, we got to reach the top with her—that alpine place of quiet holiness that is any mountain climber’s goal. Just like climbing a 14er, there were many suggestions from our group about which way we could reach the top best. This trail, that way, pack the box up anyway. There were moments of tension and daughter’s tears. Holiday meals forever treasured, yet no turning back now.

After we reached the crest of that mountain not quite dark, (three cars of boxes loaded for the second trip), we waved goodbye to that house—the valley left behind.

And then we camped on the summit last night, aunt and I. Exhausted yet exuberant, we feasted and danced on the peak of new beginnings. We line danced and two-stepped and waltzed all over that rough place. Feet pounded out the past and twirled up tribute to Papa for finally bringing her life path to this high place because His delight is in her.

Let them praise his name with dancing…
For the LORD takes delight in his people.
Psalm 149:3-4

Her mountain has a trail onto the other side, and today that’s where aunt is headed. Her journey continues on, and so will mine. I look forward to seeing where her trek leads next. But no matter the terrain or circumstances of life, aunt has taught me that dancing in rain takes away pain, and dancing in praise floods my heart with joy.

So my limbs aren’t sore from lifting boxes or trekking up that final leg of the crest. I actually ache because last night was a time to dance!