In answer to your question: The descent is its own story.

It’s one thing to scramble up to the heights. But sometimes, coming back down feels even more intimidating than the climb. We all found ourselves wondering: But how do we get back down?

I braced myself, expecting the descent to be the hardest part—less control, more chance of falling. But it wasn’t. Not this time.

We stayed low and scooted down on our butts, laughing and red-dusted, arms bracing between ridges to keep from sliding too fast. My muscles ached, but gravity did what it hadn’t on the way up - it helped.

I slid a little too fast at one point, but I caught myself. And in that moment, I realized something: The descent was still harrowing, steep, and uncertain— but I was being held. By myself, the rocks, and something greater.

Maybe we don’t understand the climb until our feet touch solid ground.

Dusted and trembling, we begin to gather what the journey gave us— the grit, the grace, and the quiet gifts we didn’t know we’d earned.