"Come with me to the mountains"

"Will you come with me to the mountains? It will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?"

     -C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

Frustration, confusion. You have come to a fork in the road and you're considering which path it is you should choose to take.  The path to the right is most definitely scaling up the mountain, there is no doubt. It is jagged and rocky, steep and by no means appealing. To the left; on the contrary, is a path that appears to be scaling up the mountain, a much less treacherous and steep hike; it looks almost enjoyable, by no means rocky or dangerous. You hardly falter in your decision, as you grab your things and pace towards the left. But, almost out of nowhere, a lean young man calls after you, from the path to the right. His smile is genuine, inviting. "Will you come with me to the mountains?" He asks gently.

You are so perplexed by this stranger who seems to be so interested in your company, "I am going to the mountains, but I am going by this path, it seems much more pleasurable."

Your words paint a small frown across his face, "I assure you, that path may be more enjoyable along the way, but the view of this one, the destination is far more rewarding. Sure, it is jagged and rocky and steep; it will hurt at first, but eventually your feet will become hardened. That path is deceitful, it appears to bring you up to the top of the mountains, but it really only brings you further away."

His words confuse you even more, "Have you walked the jagged path before?"

The stranger nods his head gently, "Many times. Will you come?"

"Have you walked the other path before?" You fold your arms across your chest.

Slowly, he shakes his head, "I have invited many of my brothers and sisters to walk with me along this path instead, but many have chosen to take that one. I have never seen them at the top."

"Do you know where it leads to, if not the top?"

Remorse covers the strangers face, "Continually, they walk along the path, unwounded, yet so bounded in suffering. My path is always accessible along their way, but they hope in their path, they convince themselves that eventually they will reach the top, and then it will be worth it; surely my path must end in death. But it is quite the contrary, and they realize this all too late."

Anger fills your veins, "If you know this path ends in death, why don't you save them rather than just inviting them and watching them waltz into their death?!"

He is patient, "I have saved them, I have given them the option to take this path. I came and I made a way to the top of the mountain. Before, they could only take the other path."

You soak in his words, trying to understand, "I can't fully understand," you grumble.

He grins easily, "And you won't. You just have to believe that what I say is true. Will you come with me to the mountains?"

You sigh and look back at the easy path, "I think I would rather enjoy my walk to my ruin than hike up an exhausting and dangerous path to a better destination. I mean, I will most definitely fall and be injured on your path."

He nods, "No doubt, you will fall. Many times along my path, you will fall. But I will be with you each time that you do, and before you know it, your feet will harden and you will become stronger. You will have to persevere, but then you will find yourself in paradise."

Slowly, you stutter, "Well I will be lonely on the other path..."

"Will you come?" He holds out his hand.

You falter, wondering who this man really is; a stranger who could easily be deceiving you. But you walk towards him, leaving behind your things and you embark on the jagged path. At first, the path is not too bad, you excitedly walk beside your new friend, wanting to know all about him, how to be like him. But soon, the jagged rocks pierce your feet and you want to turn back. Through your tears, you cling to his hand and he guides you. He takes you to a nearby pool of water, he washes your wounded feet and your scabbed hands from your many falls. Your salty tears run down your face and he looks at you consolingly, "I have been wounded, too. To make this path, I was wounded for you." He holds out his hands for you to see.

You place your fingers in his scars and you wince for him, "I didn't deserve for you to do that. I doubt you, still, all too often. I think you have lied to me and I have wanted to turn back."

He shakes his head, "And you again will doubt. But no matter how many times you do, I have made a way and I delight in leading you to the mountaintops, in your company."

Your heart swells up in his kindness, in his love. You promise yourself you will persevere harder, for him, you will endure the rocky path. But the next time you trip, the blood pours from your knee and you cry in anger to him, "If you love me so much, why do you watch me suffer?"

He cries with you, "Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows, but still, will you come with me?"

You walk away from the path to a pool of water, in disgust, you wash your wound yourself, but it swells and it burns, "I will walk alone."And for a few days and nights, you do. But you trip, you stumble. He tries to near you, but stubbornly you tell him you don't need his help. It is not long before you realize that without him, the path is not as fulfilling; that you hurt more, and your mere attempts to clean out your wounds are in vain. You curl up on the ground and you bring yourself low, "I was wrong, so terribly wrong. This hike is nothing if you are not with me."

He wraps you up, he pieces your cuts together, he holds you in his arms, "I was always with you. I never left."

Through tears, you correct yourself, "This hike is nothing if it is not for you. In return. For your love. I don't deserve you."

"And yet you always have me," he smiles at you.

You sit up, strengthened by him being with you, "Will you come to the mountains with me? My feet are still sore, but they will become hardened. I walk in the shadows still, but will you come?"