A Deluge at Waterrock Knob

The sounds of the rushing Tuckasekegee River greeted me when I stepped outside with coffee this morning. Can you tell I'm not at home!

I've been trying to schedule  a vacation with my boys for a few years. Courtney was added to the list last December when she said, "I do." So when everyone ended up in the Atlanta area this summer, we started scheming about where we could go.

After tossing a few ideas around, a friend of mine (from high school!) offered us his home in the mountains while his family is away on vacation. Humbled and excited, I said, "We'll take it!"

His home rests up on a hill only a short hike from the river, about ten minutes from Dillsboro, NC. This area of the country holds some of my dearest life memories. So coming back with grown boys instead of little boys, stirs deep emotion.

While there's much more to the story, I'll just tell you I was here with Jason on my birthday, only three weeks before he died. My mom came up the next day with the boys and we went to Santa's Land and rode the Great Smokey Mountain Railroad. 

But on my birthday, Jason and I drove to one of the highest points on the Blue Ridge Parkway. The scenic overlook held special memories and I'd wanted to share the view with him for over a year and a half. When a couple we hardly knew called the month before and offered their cabin for a week that October, we agreed, not knowing he'd be gone so soon after.

But God did.

And God wrote our story in such a way that we ate lunch together - with an amazing view - at the newly renovated high point that's still accessible today. Jason was wheelchair bound and needed help with his food. But being there together settled something in me.

After a long drive Tuesday night, the boys and Courtney and I decided to take it easy Wednesday. But after the World Cup game, we loaded my van and drove to Waterrock Knob. Nathan put the timer on his new camera and took our photo.

 

If I was at home, I'd scan old photos from the other two times the boys and I have stood with our backs to his view. They don't remember. It's been a number of years.  But we've climbed this path before, and I just couldn't let them go without me.

 

 These storm clouds made for a great photo but didn't scare us away.

  

I remembered my grey walker - the one I don't like - was in the van. Since it helped me on the beach, I threw it in before we left... just in case. Nathan grabbed it from the van for me and I started climbing the steep incline.

  

My heart pounded. My legs tired. But I just kept taking one small step at a time. And before too long, I'd climbed 1/4 mile up the steepest path I'd dared traverse in almost a decade. 

 

 And just as I found my "non tired" smile for the photo op with Courtney, she said, "Uh-oh... did you feel that?"

Thinking little of it, I replied, "No... feel what?"

"The rain drops..."

About that time, the heaven's parted, a Noah type flood began, and we found ourselves stuck a quarter mile up with me and my walker and a suddenly slippery slope.

It was amazing!

Truly amazing.

Fairly certain a tree wouldn't provide enough shelter at this point, Nathan faced me, braced the walker, and descended backwards at my slow pace, assuring I wouldn't fall. Courtney and Sam provided comic relief while the deluge slowly soaked every piece of clothing on our bodies.

I laughed the whole way down.

We didn't see a pretty sunset or even glimpse colorful leaves. And I rode home with less clothing on than planned. But my heart soared. I don't know what else life has to bring. We've still a journey ahead. But being there with my grown young men (and Courtney!!) who helped their mom up the mountain, I felt the deepest kind of assurance that God is with us, guiding us, and taking care of us.

So I'll keep climbing... and try zip-lining tomorrow.

photo credit: shaggyhill via photopin cc