Quality Time

 As a father of five it has amazed me how hard it is to find quality time with any one of my children.  That is why in recent years I have started to seek out one-on-one time with each one of them starting with our oldest, Eli.  However I have found that this quality time doesn't just happen by itself- it must be planned for, carved out of the schedule, and then protected from getting pushed out of the schedule.  To help ensure that we would make some memories, just he and I, I bought Eli a hiking backpack this past Christmas with the intent to summit the highest peak in Paraguay with him.  Between December and April important to trivial things threatened the daddy-son excursion from becoming a reality.  Things like friends ("daddy, can we invite..."  "No son, this needs to be our experience."), daddy's ministry, Eli's home school, bad weather, laziness, and even fear; almost every imaginable excuse seemed to fight against me spending one-on-one time with my son!  And so, daddy promised-"I can't wait to go son!", mommy warned- "You better go Dan!", and Eli showed patience and grace- "I can't wait to go either dad; it's OK mommy."  As if there really is anything more important in the world than spending quality time with one of the most important people in my life! 

What amazed me even more than the challenge to get away with my son was how much my perspective changed the instant our feet hit the trail.  We had gotten up long before the sun to catch the 4:30 bus.  We swung into town where we bought Eli a decent pair of hiking shoes and jumped on another bus.  By 8 AM we were standing in the sunlight, just my son and I, the long trail sprawling out before us, and nothing competing for our attention or interrupting our conversation except the birds.  All those once seemingly legitimate excuses as to why we shouldn't go faded into the background and I realized my feelings had been misguiding me.  Yes, there was sacrifice and even risk involved in taking Eli backpacking in the mountains.  I'd had to leave ministry, Sarah and the kids would have to do without us, I'd be taking my son alone into the woods in South America (much more scary than hiking by myself).  But in an instant, as Eli and I strapped on our packs and started down the trail, all these things came into perspective.  It was worth it.  And right now there was no better place for me to be.

As we marched toward the looming cliffs of Paraguay's highest peaks I told Eli, "You know this will not only be a challenge for you, but for me too.  We'll have to work together to get up this mountain and make it back down safely."  We had to follow about five miles of orange dirt road to get to the base of the mountain.  Shade was scarce as the sun rose higher, and though beautiful, the hiking was a bit tedious and Eli started to complain.  We had trail mix overloaded with Rocklets (the Paraguayan equivalent of M&M's).  So I told Eli, "How about this, every time you complain, I get one of your Rocklets." That put a stop to the complaining and as we hiked we shared stories.  Eli amazed me with random facts about geography, history, and science that he had been learning in home school (that boy did not get his genius from his dad).  I told stories from my life about backpacking in the National Parks, when I had first met mommy, the adventure of finding my independence at college, how God had changed my life...  I paused at times to see if Eli would reciprocate with a profoundly contemplative question. "Tell me more about your backpacking trips daddy," came the reply.

Eli found new energy once we entered into the woods and started the steep climb.  No longer was he dragging his feet.  "Come on dad!" Scrambling up rocks we climbed higher and higher.  At times we could catch glimpses through the dense foliage of the outstretched land far below- showing how high we had really climbed.  We criss-crossed over streams and traversed around waterfalls, keeping an eye out for giant butterflies and spiders.  At one point we came to a sign that read, 'CUIDADO, Empieza de la Zona Empinada'- which roughly translates 'CAUTION, Start of Steep-Climb Zone'.  However Eli and I couldn't get past the fact that the word 'empinada' sounded an awful lot like Paraguay's famous meat pastries- empanadas.  We encountered cables to help us climb the 'Zona Empinada' and I joked, "Watch out that you don't step on an empanada Eli... you think the meat ones are slippery the cheese ones are treacherous!" We could hardly breath from the excursion of climbing and laughing uncontrollably as we imagined a section of the trail covered in a layer of meat pastries.  "Please daddy, stop making me laugh!  I'm going to fall!" Eli begged.  An hour later Eli posed in front of a sign that read, 'You are now standing atop the highest point in Paraguay.'

Eli and I pitched my two man tent on the rim of mount Trés Kandú.  That tent has been to the Adirondacks, Glacier, Great Smokey Mountain, and Grand Canyon National Parks but this trip was no less significant than any of those previous adventures.  We lit a campfire while gazing out over the land, 2200 feet below- seemingly extending to the edge of the earth.   I managed to cook up a decent dinner as the stars came out and lights began to burn far below.  "Ohh, daddy, this is really good!" Eli exclaimed.  I took his compliment without explaining that everything tastes better after you've climbed a mountain.  The Milky Way stretched out overhead as clear as a cloud during the day.  I got to know my son in a whole new way on that trip- in a way I never could have hadn't I made the small sacrifices, taken a few risks, so my son and I could find some quality time together.