Stairway to Heaven.
A couple of weeks ago, I boarded an eight hour flight to the
place I called home four years ago—Hawaii. I know, I know---lucky me! While I
was there, I stayed with one of my good friends from high school. We spent the
week sharing college stories, increasing our chances of skin cancer, indulging
in Froyo, and most importantly, rekindling a friendship that began junior year
of high school.
The night before I flew back home, we both decided my trip
needed a finale, something that we would remember forever, something like
climbing Stairway to Heaven.
The Stairway to Heaven, or Haiku Stairs, is a 4,000 step
ladder that basically scales the side of a mountain. It has been named one of
the most beautiful hikes in America, yet for the past 26 years the hike has
been illegal. So the night before, we set our alarms for 2am to get to the
trail before the security guard showed up, packed our bags, and tried to get a
couple hours of sleep in before the big hike.
Around 2:30am we found ourselves roaming through a pitch
black forest in pouring rain, using the flashlights on our phones as our guide,
in an attempt to find the base of the stairs. Once we reached the bottom, our adventure
began. We climbed and climbed and climbed and climbed---the only visible
landmark being the lights on the highway 3,000 feet below us.
At about 4am we finally reached the top, where the temperature
drops about 20 degrees and the wind becomes almost unbearable. Then we sat for
two hours. Freezing. Soaked. And huddled in an old WWII radio tower waiting for
sunrise.
And then about two hours later the wait was over. The sun
finally started to poke through the clouds, the mountains around us lit up, and
the breathtaking view of the island came into view.
On the way back down, in between fearing for my life and
making sure I didn’t slip off of the staircase, I thought about how grateful I was
that an actual stairway to heaven didn’t exist. That I didn’t have to climb
thousands of stairs to meet Jesus. That I would never have to fear falling off of the
side of a mountain on my journey to heaven.
And that I wouldn’t have to sneak past a security guard in order to meet
my Father. My stairway to heaven was as simple as accepting Him into my heart
as my Lord and Savior.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." -John 3:16
And that isn’t just my stairway to heaven—its everyone’s!
The weak. The strong. The sinners. The poor. The desperate. The helpless. The lost.
He accepts them all. And He is waiting to accept you.
Tonight, I am overwhelmed by a Savior who takes me just as I
am. A Savior who died on the cross for my sins so that one day I could enter
His Kingdom. A Savior who instead of
making the journey to heaven a dangerous and exhausting hike or a series of
demands---the journey is a forgiveness of sins and the acceptance of a Savior.
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