By faith, we climb the tallest peak,
One step at a time, His strength we seek.
Father led me down the way,
To the fishing hole, where we’d stay.
I struggled to match his pace so swift,
While rebel limbs tugged at my grip.
Steps came easy in youthful days,
When life held secrets, yet no harsh gaze.
Few were the worries, light was the load,
At the mountain’s base, where dreams are sowed.
The path grew steep as years unfurled,
Responsibilities shaped my world.
To study, to strive, to give my best,
While temptations knocked, disturbing rest.
The climb grew harder, my strength wore thin,
I searched for help, unsure where to begin.
Then Jesus came with hands outstretched,
Bringing peace where fears once etched.
Marriage and family added their weight,
Each choice I made sealed my fate.
Every step carried burdens anew,
For those who followed the path I drew.
Fellow climbers stumbled and fell,
Lost in struggles too deep to quell.
Yet hands were offered, faith restored,
Together we climbed, our hearts implored.
It’s a paradox, yet true with age,
As strength fades, we turn the page.
Steps near the summit grow more steep,
And unforeseen hazards rise from deep.
But ahead, the summit unveils its grace,
A glorious view, no veil to face.
The peak breathes hope to the weary soul,
Where all troubles fade, and hearts are whole.
With God-graced courage, steadfast and bright,
Step by step, we ascend the height.
To the peak of the mountain, upward bound,
Heaven awaits, where peace is found.
For the mountain arises, unyielding, grand,
But with God, we conquer, by Jesus’ hand.
Largely inspired by recent conversations with my dear hospice patients.
LookingtoJesus 