Chapter 24 #2
A breeze slips through the trees, cooling my flushed skin, moving the leaves above us.
I look up toward the sky and watch as the sun’s rays filter through the branches in bold golden streaks, and my racing thoughts begin to calm.
The anger leaves my heart, as if the breeze is cooling me from the inside out, and my thoughts start to rearrange themselves.
Dad’s choice to leave us had nothing to do with me.
Or Ashton. Or even Mom. I can’t hang on to that anymore if I want to forgive him and move forward.
My brother choosing something different for himself wasn’t a betrayal.
It was part of his own path that he had to take, and I need to respect that.
If it wasn’t for that path, I wouldn’t be in Covewood today.
It’s as if a veil has been lifted and I can finally look back on my life with different eyes, because for so long, all I could see were the things I’d lost. But being here now, I can see traces of God in the places I missed before.
I think about the woman who used to help Mom and me out by driving me to school when our car broke down for nearly a month.
How she never complained and showed up every morning with a smile and a thermos of coffee for Mom.
I think about Ashton warning me about Derek long before I was willing to listen.
About the uneasiness I carried every time Derek asked me to put my dreams on hold, even when I kept convincing myself everything was fine.
Maybe God’s been speaking all along. Not through grand miracles or burning bushes, but through people, through nudges, and through the doors that refused to stay open no matter how hard I pushed.
Dad might have left me, but God never has.
Religion might have failed me, but God is so much bigger than religion.
Every step I’ve taken, both good and bad, worked together to lead me here.
And much like this hike, where easy paths can suddenly drop into trenches and fallen trees force us to find a different way forward, my life has looked a lot like that too.
But maybe God was guiding me even when I couldn’t see the trail.
The thoughts land gently, like they’ve been waiting for me to be quiet long enough to hear them. God was there all along. In the grit, in the provision, in the way I kept going even when I didn’t know how. I had to walk through those trenches to get to the place where God intended for me to be.
Sometimes God puts the miracle on the other side of the hardest step. The one you’re most afraid to take.
The trail bends sharply, the trees thinning just enough to reveal the world dropping away beneath us.
A group of men passes on their way down, and I watch them longer than I mean to, noticing the ease in their faces, the loose swing of their arms, as they disappear around the bend. The longing aches in my chest.
Does this really work?
I keep climbing. Different types of plants line our path, ferns unfurling, wildflowers pushing through stone. My chest eases as I study them, my breath finding a steadier rhythm, and the tears start to dry on my cheek.
God, I’m sorry for getting angry. I’m sorry for focusing on all of the negatives when there has been so much good in my life. I need some clarification for Your will in my life. What do you want me to do?
A scream cuts through the trees. It’s a woman’s voice, sounding raw and unfiltered, tearing free of whatever she carried up here. The sound raises goosebumps along my arms, the hair at the nape of my neck prickling as if my body recognizes that I’ll be next.
I’m ready for this. The air feels charged as the trail begins to level out, the trees thinning until the sky opens above us. The top is only a few steps away now. Warmth spreads through my chest, down my arms, wrapping around me like an embrace.
We continue upward on the trail, and a minute later, we pass the woman on her way down. Her steps are light, her face softened with peace, and I’m happy for her.
The view opens wide before us. Wildflowers spill across the clearing in soft, unruly patches, their colors bending together gently in the breeze, as their sweet, earthy scent is carried through the air.
Just beyond them, the land drops away into miles of untamed forest, rolling hills layered in endless shades of green, and a glimmering lake in the distance.
The wind brushes against my skin, as if the mountain itself is welcoming me.
It’s overwhelming in the best way.
Zane takes the first step forward. He moves slowly, his shoulders lifting as he inhales…and pauses. He stops near the edge then looks back at me, and a flash of unguarded openness shines within his eyes. I wonder what he carried up here. What he’s ready to release.
He turns back toward the valley, tosses his hands out, and lets it all go.
The sound of his shout rips free from him.
It’s loud at first, fading into a peaceful sound by the end, taking all the wind from his lungs.
It echoes across the hills, breaking apart, and then returns softer until it’s silent again.
The only sound left is the wind rushing past us, the wildflowers bowing under its force.
He stands there for a moment, breathing hard, before he turns around.
I can see the change in him instantly. His posture has loosened, his eyes seem clearer, and the weight he carried up here has evaporated.
Then, his hazel eyes land on mine, a smile breaking across his face, and he walks toward me with an outstretched hand.