The Problem with the Valley

To survive the valley, 

you have to be real comfortable in your own skin.

You’ll find many companions on the path to the mountaintop,

but very few will journey with you to the valley.

Those who do are unlikely to stay.

The closest companion you’re left with: you.

Your thoughts.

Your physical weakness.

Your limits.

Your sins.

Unmasked.

You become keenly aware of your scars, blemishes, incapabilities,

and if you’re not comfortable coming face to face with yourself,

you may not survive.

 

Self-hatred, self-loathing, self-condemnation

The valley is quiet; your thoughts, loud

The voice of the accuser in your own head, so close you can taste its poison.

 

In the mountaintops, your weaknesses don’t bother you

because you’re overwhelmed by the beauty surrounding you,

    the view from the top – breathtaking

    this moment – significant

    you – small

 

In the cities, your weakness don’t bother you because they are drown out by the noise

Or sometimes even the suffering of others

    Opportunities – everywhere

    This moment – insignificant

    You – the center

 

But in the valley?

Your weaknesses are on full display, weighing you down

Stuck in the marsh by your limits

Lost in the forest – your thoughts – going in circles

No noise, no distraction, no beauty

Just you and your ashes

 

To survive the valley

Is to have the fortitude to love yourself

Exposed, bare, raw, dirty

The Garden of Eden deep in the valley

The place to face your Maker as you are

Without even a fig leaf

To admit you took a bit of the poisoned apple

And to discover that the serpent’s lies

Are more about you

Than they are about Him.