Rock Wall

One of the gifts of older siblings is the hand-me-downs for your children. We’ve been the grateful recipient of countless LEGO sets, homecoming dresses, and other items we would never want to buy ourselves but use to the fullest. Years ago, my older brother offered a large climbing rock wall for kids that he had in his basement. As the oldest male in our family, my brother grew up as “the laborer” – handy with tools, lifting furniture, and fixing and installing various appliances and fixtures. Given his initiative, I never got the hands-on experience (nor did I desire to have it). Therefore, it was obvious who would be dissembling the rock wall in his house and reassembling it in my backyard. Not even six months later, we ended up moving. My brother was called into action once again to dissemble and reassemble this beast. As he drilled in the last screw for the fourth time in my basement, he made the declaration that he would never again touch this structure.

Fast forward ten years: after a lot of climbing enjoyment, our kids had outgrown the rock wall, and it was time to find it a new home. I called my brother to ask for help, hoping he forgot his declaration. He had not. In our 42 years of life together, there has never been a house project my older brother wouldn’t take on. For him to refuse meant it must really be a challenge, and therefore, it was definitely something I would never be able to do myself. Months went by with me staring at this literal mountain and wondering who I would have to hire and how much I would have to pay to remove this plastic boulder from my property. After failed attempts to bribe some friends with beer to help, I decided I would need to climb this mountain alone. I planned to take multiple days off and rent a truck.

When the fateful day arrived, I woke up early and got down to work. Within 45 minutes, the rock wall was dissembled, all of the hardware was neatly saved in a Ziplock bag and all the pieces fit into the back of my SUV. An hour later, I was already back home having delivered the structure to its new one. The mountain I had feared turned out to be barely a hill. As I thought about how I might spend the rest of my day off, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was so afraid to engage in this work in the first place. I realized my hesitation had nothing to do with my own ability. Rather, it was how I saw my ability in relationship to my brother’s. If it was a pain for him, it must be an even greater pain for me.

How often in life and leadership do I project how far I can climb based on someone else’s ability or willingness to climb the same mountain? With tasks or functions I can do but no longer wish to, what unintended insecurities or disincentives might I be telegraphing to others in my fatigue? Whether at work, the parish, or even in my own family, when I am struggling to find someone to take over a role I played, could it be that part of the issue is the way I’ve played the role?

I told the latest recipient of the rock wall that I was so confident in her ability to assemble it, that I would be excited to help her when the time comes. As we continue to climb whatever hills or mountains the Lord has in store for us this week, let’s remember that the only heights we must fear are those we try to climb without Him.