Its eerily silent, with the evening breeze not so much caressing as biting my skin. My bones feel heavy, each joint creaking as I try to rise to my feet. Its almost like de ja vu as I look around and see nobody, save for the bones of the fallen at my feet. Like a sailor aboard a ship in the middle of a fierce storm, my legs feel all rubbery but still I must rise otherwise I might very well lay down and cradle the bones strewn around. And bones do not make for comfort.

I can hear the voices of people above and around me, seemingly oblivious and my voice grows hoarse as I call out for help, however the response is the echo that comes back to me. It is weird because this is like the reeling scenes of a movie once seen before. The callouses on my palm are a sore reminder of the last time I clawed my way to the top and although they are all but scars but still the memory of the climb is still nestled somewhere at the back of my mind.

The twinge along my spine is not of fear because that has been conquered long ago, it is just a painful reminder of the limitations of this vessel. The medication alleviates it but still like relentless waves of an angry sea, it bashes again and again with an almost uncanny determination to knock me down and keep me down – I object to that and acknowledge that even in the silence, I sense strength and hope for me.

Like the bucking rider on the bull, I am reminded that there are just but two players in the arena and regardless of whether there are silent or rowdy spectators, that does not change the fact. I have called out and He hath sent me help and this time will not be any different. This is not my first rodeo even as I yet again gather my garments around me and stumble to the the sheer walls surrounding the valley. Hoarse voice, calloused hands, aching body….still I know this is not my destination.

My head slumps just as another bout of pain hits me, and I see my own hands in the twilight – these are the only hands that will always help me up and rightfully attached they are to my own arms. I will not succumb! I did not and I still will not because there is more than just me to think about. No white flag will ever be hoisted above me in surrender because I am more than a conqueror and needless to say whether the circumstamces acquiesce to that or not, that is my choice.

I am not just going to be another set of bleached bones because this vessel holds dreams and aspirations and to them I will see, though time hastens by but with each footstep I take, I know that this battle has already been worn. The silence of those around me do not make me despair rather they drive me on, and as long as I’ve got a voice, it will be heard. I will not spend any energy in raising clenched fists in anger and disappointment, I need the strength to make my way up because as always when I crest the top, the beauty is a sight to behold and with heads bowed in shame, they will make way for me.

The climb must begin once again because this is not my destination, I know where I am headed and companions in due season will arise and play their role but for now I must do it all by myself and with the inexhaustible reserves of strength He avails me. Battered, bruised and bewildered but still I journey along. The stones feel very cold to the touch as my fingers search out the tiny holds to enable me pull myself up. This is not an exercise in futility because climbing takes me upwards and there I must be. A beacon of hope to those who have fallen down into their own valleys, an inspiration to the few amidst the many who have never been down, a message to all that life is not fair but the choices we make determine who we become – caregiver, friend or just another set of willing hands.

From my lips, emanate praise to The One who makes it all come together for me, for He was, still is and forever will be. Inch by inch, I pull myself up – the grazes matter but nought to me. This is my climb out of this valley and my place will never be with the bones…

מאי להאירובנעימות עליך עד שנפגש שוב .