Naturally, my body holds a lot of anxiety all of the time. And it sometimes manifests itself in less than reasonable ways....
That oil change I forgot to get last week....it will almost definitely cause my car to breakdown on the middle of the interstate and I will surely be pummeled by a semi.
That cold bug I came down with....probably pneumonia; I'll probably be dead by Tuesday.
And then there's Diane-my dear friend, sister, and fellow lover of life. We met in divinity school and ever since she has been gently teaching me to set down my anxiety and simply live.
This past week Diane and I spent five days in the mountains of North Carolina.
Our time together involved a beautiful hike. A hike with waterfalls and gorgeous views. And, about half way up, a hike that got somewhat strenuous and slippery with a snake thrown in for good measure.
My anxious self was ready to turn around--I'm no mountain climber and while my Chacos are pretty fabulous they're still attached to my less-than-graceful, prone-to-falling feet.
But Diane just kept climbing--she didn't point out the ridiculous nature of my fear; she didn't preach about how I should be different--she just scrambled up the mountain ahead of me and kept going....
and as I've done so many times before, I thankfully followed--still a bit hesitant and anxious but ready to trust in the strong, amazing friend who was leading the way.
Before it was this particular hike, it was my gradual immersion in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)-- I wasn't really Disciple enough I told myself (I never went to summer camp after all)--but there was Diane, walking in front of me, as I made my way into regional assemblies, General assemblies and ultimately ordination and service in this denomination that is now my home....
Before it was this particular hike, it was my slow (and still slow) foray into running--I'm not really athletic enough, not strong enough, there's no way I can do this my anxiety whispered--but there was Diane, jogging in front of me, as I slowly shuffled my way mile after mile.
With Diane leading the way we found ourselves atop a beautiful waterfall, feet hanging over the edge of a rock, awash in sunlight, joyfully munching on the snacks we'd packed. She never said a word--she just put one foot in front of the other--and I walked alongside.
I am thankful for this dear friend and sister of mine who with her walking and her living reminds me to live fully, to take risks, to keep climbing.