My Little Flock

The Mt. Brown hike was the best and most challenging hike we went on this year. Elijah and I attempted it first with Nathan and Ernie but could only go so high due to the snow. Later, we did the hike again with Dave and the twins, Tim and Dan.

What a great hike. It's a 4,400' elevation gain and about an 11 mile hike roundtrip. STEEP. I knew that Elijah could do it because he had done so well on the first attempt. The twins, however, had never done anything like this and needed a lot of encouragement. I kept telling them that they were men and this is what makes real men--making sacrifices and enduring the hard stuff to achieve our goals, which are not only rewarding in themselves but make it all worth while.

Throughout the hike, we sang songs and talked about God's majesty, what it was like in the Garden of Eden and what it will be like on God's new earth that He is preparing for the righteous. Dave told the kids that they were getting a different perspective, because they couldn't see things like this from down below.

When we got to the top, the kids were stoked. Dan kept shouting, "We did it! We climbed the mountain!" and "This was so worth it! You can't see sights like this from down there!"

I told him, "That's right. You did it. You kept going, even though it was hard, and you didn't give up, and now you get to enjoy the reward."

On the way back down, Dan stopped right in front of me on the trail, so I told him to keep going and not stop. I think he was afraid I was thinking he was giving up, because he replied, "We didn't quit all the way to the top of the mountain. We kept going and we made it all the way to the top. Why would we quit now?"

That was a response I was more than happy to hear. Actually, we only went to the lookout, which is where most people stop and come back. I will return though, without the kids and make the ascent all the way to the peak. I knew that 11 miles was a lot for three seven-year-olds, and I didn't push them any further. Besides, it was getting late and we still had to get back down.

I wrote the following article upon returning home from Phoenix and ran it in the next issue of the West Shore News. I thought I'd share it, for my own Cinderellas and the one I watched drive away with her groom...

Modern Cinderella Stories
By Jacob Doran

I’ve never really liked weddings because of the amount of stress involved in planning them and then trying to carry them out without something major going wrong. I have, however, recently discovered a new reason to dislike them.

Last week, I flew to Phoenix, Ariz. to attend the wedding of a girl whom I have known since I was 19 and whom I have watched grow from a 4 year-old with round cheeks and a button nose into a beautiful young woman who has raised the eyebrows of many a young man on her journey to womanhood.

Gracie’s younger brother, Jacob, was just one year old when I first met her family. I didn’t know it then but her father would soon move to Colorado Springs and pastor the church that I attended.

Before I knew it, they were like family to me and I became the resident jungle gym whenever I walked in the door. It felt good to wrestle with the two youngest children during my stay in Arizona, last week, and see the look of warmth on Gracie’s face when she came down the stairs and laughed out loud.

“It’s just like old times,” Gracie said.

For a moment, I could have almost wished that she were right. Still, I knew that was wishful thinking. Little Grace was not the little girl who used to join the family dog pile in wrestling me to the floor for a wildly animated tickling match. Those days had vanished like the June mist, when the morning gives way to the sun’s warmth.

In what seems to me like a few short years, a little girl became a woman and I became the father of five children of my own. My oldest daughter, 4 year-old Alana, is the same age that Grace was when she and her family first came into my life.

Then, came the day when I watched her walk down the aisle through tearful eyes and thought about how quickly those years had passed. The little girl that I had loved like a sister had grown into a young woman whose groom was now pledging to love her in sickness and in health as they begin their life together.

When the ceremony ended, Gracie Shuler had become Grace Alexander. Doubtless, within a few years, she will experience the joy of motherhood and witness the miracle and frustrations of watching her own little girl transition from one phase of her life to the next.

The years between the bubbly 4 year-old and elegant young bride seemed a blur. I couldn’t help but wonder if the same will be true of my own bubbly 4-year old—the one whose contagious laughter melts away the stress of my day and who shows me her love in countless little ways like bringing me a glass of water that she filled on her own just because she thought I might be thirsty.

For a moment, I saw my own Alana, or 2 year-old Moriah or even 6 month-old Tabitha staring into the eyes of some handsome young man with a good singing voice and a way with words. I didn’t know what had become of the last fourteen years, and I knew even less what would become of the next fourteen years.

Soon Grace and her new husband drove off and left the rest of us behind. One day, I knew that my own daughters would do the same.

I felt a sudden urge to hold my girls in my arms and to savor every moment between now and then. I had never felt like more of a prisoner to time or more helpless to keep the hours, days and years from passing.

Driving around Phoenix, the same song must have played three different times while I was there. It was a new song by Steven Curtis Chapman called Cinderella. I couldn’t listen without feeling the tears well up inside.

“She spins and she sways to whatever song plays,
Without a care in the world.
And I'm sitting here wearing the weight of the world on my shoulders.
It's been a long day and there's still work to do,
She's pulling at me saying "Dad I need you!
There's a ball at the castle and I've been invited and I need to practice my dancin'
"Oh please, daddy, please!

”So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she'll be gone.”

My life is so busy. I don’t remember, anymore when it wasn’t that way. But neither can I remember what life was like before five children came on scene and changed my whole concept of joy and contentment. Each time, I wondered if I could love another child as much as the ones I already had, and each time I learned that my heart’s capacity for love is greater than I ever imagined it could be.

I can’t imagine life without even one of my children. They are all so much a part of me, not to mention an indispensable part of each and every day of my life. I can’t say that there aren’t times when I don’t want to gag them to get a little peace and quiet or tie them to each other until they learn to get along, but I returned home from the wedding more acutely aware than ever before that one day the constant reminders of their presence will be gone and my home will be unbearably quiet.

So I too will dance with my Cinderllas and cherish every moment, every song, while its still in my power to hold them close, because I can’t stop the years from passing or the hours from ticking away, and I dread that fateful moment when they too will drive off and leave my home empty and quiet. I can, however, ensure that they will leave it full of memories.