Uphill. All the way.

Life is sweet.And life is hard.As I type this, I am enjoying a freshly washed pair of flannel pajamas. But my belly is kinda aching from waiting too long to eat. Which then caused me to eat too much when I finally did get around to it. Hence the switch from skinny jeans to flannel pajama bottoms.I am sipping on a delicious cup of cinnamon tonic, while listening to the storm slowly brewing outside. A seemingly beautiful spring moment (and that it is!). But the sweet smell of cinnamon from my cup is slowly being overridden by the stench coming from a pile of stinky, poopy diapers waiting by the backdoor for their trip to the washing machine.Yes, friends, there is sweet and there is stinky. There is longing and there is loss. There is relaxation and there is work.Stuart presented the following poem to his class last week, and I've thought of it often since he read it to me over the breakfast table a few days ago.It sticks with me, in the back of my mind, reminding me that this side of glory there will always be battles alongside peace.UphillChristina RossettiDoes the road wind up-hill all the way?Yes, to the very end.Will the day's journey take the whole long day?From morn to night, my friend.But is there for the night a resting-place?A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.May not the darkness hide it from my face?You cannot miss that inn.Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?Those who have gone before.Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?They will not keep you standing at that door.Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?Of labour you shall find the sum.Will there be beds for me and all who seek?Yea, beds for all who come.A lot of people who I know and love dearly are carrying struggles, and burdens, and challenges as I type this. There are struggles with money. With jobs. With loss. With sickness. With infertility. With divorce. With infidelity. With addiction. With weary souls.And this side of glory (that is, this side of heaven) these struggles will always be. Until our very last day, my friends, our walk will be uphill. It will be hard.But that isn't where it ends, is it? Even on earth, we can find rest for our weariness. A rest that comes in knowing our Lord and Savior has secured for us a place in Paradise. So no matter how many times I've lost my temper today, or how tired my body is, or how difficult of a day I will face tomorrow, at this very moment, there is rest.A rest found in Christ's sufficient sacrifice for my sin.A breath of life.A revival of spirit.A break from the painstaking travels.Though the Lord challenges us, He is gracious enough to keep us from breaking.I liken the poem to my time spent backpacking through Europe. As I battled thieves, beggars, subways, unfamiliar streets, numerous transportation challenges, exhaustion, and language barriers - that incredible, restful feeling of laying my head down in bed at night consistently refreshed my body and soul after the difficulties. In fact, it was the difficulties of the traveling that made me appreciate that sweet pillow and rest all the more.Alas, I shouldn't be surprised that the smell of poopy diapers is lingering in the air. That messiness is part of a challenging life.But rest is found in Christ.And eternal rest, free of all poo, will be found at the top of the uphill journey. For all who are willing to keep traveling.Will there be beds for me and all who seek?Yea, beds for all who come.