A Higher Calling Read online

  4

  A Million Times Yes

  RACHEL

  On February 1, 2014, I received a mass text message from my sorority:

  Roses are red, violets are blue, someone is engaged, let’s find out who.

  Each time a girl in my sorority got engaged, she would tell only our president. The president would then host a “candlelight,” where all the sisters would stand in a circle and pass around a burning candle. After it passed the circle three times, the newly engaged girl would blow it out when it came around to her, and that’s how everyone would learn who it was.

  After reading the text, I was selfishly upset. I was so ready for it to be my turn! Harold and I had been dating for almost a year and a half. Had he not been at West Point, we probably would have been married already. But West Point has a rule that you can’t get married until after you graduate. Dating for a year and a half seems like a normal amount of time before getting engaged, but for us it felt like forever. I was expecting it to happen at any moment—at least at any moment that we had planned to see each other—but Harold was back at West Point coming down with a cold.

  The next morning, I was still curled up under the covers when my roommate flicked on the lights and told me I had to get up because the candlelight was happening soon. I had zero desire to get ready, but since my friend Lauren had invited me to an event right after the ceremony, I had to put on a dress and look half decent. I couldn’t find my shoes, so I was about to go downstairs barefoot when my roommate threw her shoes at me and said, “Just wear mine!”

  When I walked downstairs, everyone was staring at me. They assumed it was my candlelight because everyone knew how crazy in love Harold and I were. This only made me more annoyed because to my knowledge, it was not my candlelight.

  We all stood in a circle on the back patio and sang a song as we passed around the candle, waiting for someone to blow it out. When it passed me for the third time, I held it and couldn’t help thinking the obvious. See! It isn’t me!

  But then BAM! Into the circle walked Harold. The moment I saw his face, my eyes were like a faucet with a continuous stream of tears. I knew this was our moment. He wrapped his arm around my waist and gave the sweetest speech; then he dropped to one knee while opening a box he had made out of a Harold and the Purple Crayon book. Inside was a gorgeous engagement ring.

  I was blown away by the effort Harold had put into making that moment so special for us, and, boy, did I feel loved. It’s one thing to say we love each other, but being intentional about showing that love is just as important. Actions make words meaningful.

  HAROLD

  Unbeknownst to Rachel, I had called the president of her sorority and set up a candlelight before we were engaged. Then I told Rachel an elaborate lie about how I was feeling sick and was going to sleep the day away in my barracks room. I knew she would expect me to propose if we made plans to see each other, so I needed to keep her guessing. After taking a ferry, train, and two airplanes, I was halfway across the country, hiding at her sorority house without her even knowing!

  I had learned my lesson from when we first met, and I recruited help from Rachel’s friend Lauren to make sure Rachel got ready this time. Then, during the ceremony, as the candle was being passed around, I snuck up and stood behind her. As the candle slowly made its way to Rachel, I stepped in front of her, took the candle, blew it out, and dropped to one knee. A bunch of squeals and high-pitched “awwwws” ensued from around the circle. My mind was racing; I had so much I wanted to say. This is a little of what came out:

  “Sweetie, I want to have a family with you. I want to have lots of kids with you, lots of little Harolds running around. Sweetie, I want to make love to you every night and wake up in the morning and make love to you again. Sweetie, I want to grow old with you. Sweetie, it will be tough, it won’t always be easy, but I promise I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world. Rachel, will you make me the happiest man on earth? Rachel Wynn, will you marry me?”

  RACHEL

  Yes, yes, yes! A million times yes!

  April 21, 2016

  Frenzied activity and a miniature city of brightly colored tents of all sizes cover a wide-open rocky plain. I arrive at Everest Base Camp on a sunny day with clear skies and temperatures in the forties. Dozens of climbers surround me, some moving with purpose, others relaxing by their tents. Sherpas are everywhere, each busy carrying gear, food, bottles of oxygen and water, and other supplies. I scurry out of the way as Sherpas guide yaks with bells around their necks, toting climbing gear. I feel like a kid who is roaming the streets of some city he doesn’t know. Straight ahead, beyond the city of tents, stands my nemesis. Everest stares me down.

  At camp, we meet our Sherpa team. They have weathered faces and rough hands yet friendly smiles. The Sherpa people are an ethnic group native to the Himalayan mountains. They’re known for their mountaineering expertise. They can handle altitude better than most people and know the routes well. Many climbers hire a Sherpa to ascend Everest with them, helping with gear, oxygen, and overall safety. They speak in broken English but are a joy to interact with. They, too, have families they are leaving behind.

  I’m introduced to An Doja, my Sherpa, who has summited Everest five times and has a family back home. I shake his hand and tell him I’m looking forward to working with him. As he smiles, his kindness shines through his rough, callused skin. An Doja is an absolute animal at climbing with heavy gear. As we talk, we both have a serious look in our eyes. He knows that over the next thirty days I’m going to be putting my life and my future in his hands, just as he’ll be putting his in mine.

  I’m not afraid to admit I need his help if I want to be successful on Everest. Even though I’ve spent the past year rock climbing and training almost every day, An Doja has wisdom that I do not possess. He will show me the value of leaning on someone who has more experience. This isn’t the time to let my pride get in the way of reaching out for help. I know my personal strengths (my physical fitness, health, and youth), and I know my weaknesses (my inexperience, nominal technical-climbing skills, and limited knowledge of routes). I need someone whose strengths bolster my weaknesses. I need An Doja. Just like I need Rachel to check my pride, keep me balanced, and demonstrate what selfless love looks like.

  We each choose our tents and pick up our gear. I lug my three bags, weighing about sixty pounds each, to my site.

  The altitude is about seventeen thousand feet, and already I am panting. I can’t move nearly as fast as I’m used to. I have to stop and take breaks, sitting on my bags to catch my breath. For a brief moment, I can’t help but think the obvious: If I’m out of breath now, what’s it going to be like at the top?

  5

  A Dangerous Dream

  HAROLD

  I remember it like yesterday. I was lying in bed at West Point, daydreaming and looking over my bucket list. Close to the top was “Become an American Soldier.”

  When I was young, we would go on family vacations to Washington, DC, and visit the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Seeing those Soldiers in uniform and learning about the selfless service the unknown Soldier represented inspired me. So much so that in sixth grade, when given the prompt “Write About Your Hero,” my answer was obvious: an American Soldier. Since I would be commissioned as an Army officer when I graduated, I was almost ready to check this off the list.

  Also on my list: “Play baseball at West Point.” I could check that one off! While I didn’t write them down, the two most important ones were “Get married” and “Have a family.” One of those items was soon to have a check mark too.

  In bold at the very top of my list was “Climb Mount Everest.” As my eyes focused on this line item, I didn’t think about my zero climbing experience, nor that I was from the great state of Georgia, where our tallest mountain stands fewer than five thousand feet. But suddenly, I couldn’t get
climbing Everest out of my head, even though I had always hated the cold and was terrible at running hills during PT in the Army.

  I knew it wasn’t a mountain for the inexperienced. It is a deadly beast. Although I would need a lot of training, I wanted to put myself in that extreme environment, in the death zone, to see what I was truly made of. I wanted to try to beat the thing I’m weakest at, and that’s why Everest was number one on my list. It was a mind-consuming idea that I just couldn’t ignore.

  I had an unshakable feeling God was speaking to me, and that burning desire only became stronger whenever I thought of Everest. I knew I had to go.

  I first mentioned Everest to Rachel over the phone when we were discussing our planned trip to the Serengeti to visit the Maasai tribe. Rachel and I had been trying to make it happen for a month, but it didn’t look like it was going to pan out. This is when I decided to tell her my new plan.

  “I’ve decided I’m going to climb Mount Everest.”

  “What?” she let out with a chuckle. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Her response wasn’t quite what I’d expected. I was expecting some apprehension and pushback. We spoke about it for a few minutes, and to my surprise, she didn’t seem phased at all.

  RACHEL

  When Harold told me about his dream to climb Everest, I thought it was interesting. Not interesting as in intriguing, but interesting because he had never climbed a mountain before and it seemed pretty miserable to me. It wasn’t until Harold surprised me with a trip to Canada to celebrate our two-year dating anniversary that I finally began to understand the gravity of his decision.

  On the last day of the trip, as we drove back from Canada to West Point, we had a long and thorough discussion about Everest. It was in that moment that I realized his mind was made up and he was all in, so I had an endless amount of questions.

  “So, how long will you be gone?”

  “Around two months,” he said.

  “And how dangerous is it going to be?”

  He gave me a confident smile. “Pretty dangerous.”

  “How are you going to pay for this?”

  He explained his plans, saying who he’d reach out to and how he wanted to proceed. I was doing my best to try to gain an understanding of what was going on in that mind of his.

  HAROLD

  On the trip home from Canada, I could tell by Rachel’s questions that this Everest thing was sinking in. I told her I’d already done some research; that is, I had googled “climbing Everest.” I wondered, How much does it cost? Have any Soldiers done it? When is the best time to climb? Those questions caused me to think, Can I put together an Army team? How incredible would that be? Is it even possible for an Army Soldier to do it?

  The next day I started emailing anybody and everybody who might have an interest in helping me make this dream a reality. I didn’t know which direction to head, so I just sent out a shotgun blast in every direction to see what got traction.

  One of the biggest obstacles people encounter once they decide to go after their dreams is not knowing how to start. Are you ready for the answer? Make a move, any move at all. It doesn’t matter how big or small. Just do it. Take ten minutes and start doing something to make your dream happen; chances are you won’t stop after just ten minutes. The sheer fact of starting makes it easier to continue because you’re no longer staring at a blank slate.

  Now, say you take your first step, but you don’t go anywhere. Then what? Well, now it’s easier to take the second step because at least you know where not to step. Keep going until something works. It’s all about momentum. Once you get the ball moving, it’s easier to steer it where you want it to go. With Everest, I knew only the end state I was aiming for; all the stuff in between I figured out by trial and error.

  RACHEL

  Not only were we enduring a long-distance relationship and planning a wedding, but Harold was also adding Everest into the mix. While we were apart, we certainly saw our share of obstacles and challenges! Long distance is hard. It’s a weird balance of having to be strong and independent enough to endure the distance yet vulnerable enough to move deeper in the relationship.

  One thing that helped us get through the distance was doing our best to always make plans for the next time we would see each other. Since we got to see each other once a month at most, it was helpful to have something to look forward to. Dating long distance isn’t sustainable if you don’t have an end goal in mind; it will only drive you crazy. This really helped us keep up the morale of our relationship instead of dwelling on the fact that we weren’t together. It’s similar to the different seasons of a person’s life. They’re called seasons because there is supposed to be a beginning and an end. If you find yourself in a season that never ends, it’s probably time to make a change. You can run for only so long before needing to slow down, rest, and recharge.

  We learned that sharing our schedules with each other was one of the most important ways to prevent frustration and hurt feelings. When we failed to share our schedules, it always resulted in unmet expectations. For example, we normally talked on the phone in the evening, so if I called Harold and he didn’t pick up or text me that night, I would feel hurt and confused. But if he let me know ahead of time that he would be at a study group and wouldn’t be able to talk, I would be completely fine.

  Another tactic that kept us united while we were apart was to work on projects together. While Harold’s interest in climbing Everest skyrocketed, I helped him make lists, did research, and supported him in every way I could.

  Being in a long-distance relationship is no walk in the park. Some days it felt a little like climbing Everest! But it also made the moments we were together so much sweeter and allowed our love to grow exponentially.

  HAROLD

  Rachel was supportive in so many ways during this time, including helping me do research about climbing Everest. And there was a lot to know. One day I came across an article about an Army captain named CPT Matt Hickey who had notable climbing experience and had recently led an all-Army team to the summit of Denali with the Northern Warfare Training Center in Alaska.

  This guy is a stud, I thought.

  On impulse, I sent him an email, and to my surprise, he said he was available for a call. During our forty-five-minute conversation, he asked me a lot of questions: “What does your climbing experience look like? How high have you been?”

  “I have none,” I responded. “Well, actually, when I was a kid, I walked to the top of Brasstown Bald in Georgia. That’s like five thousand feet.”

  There was an awkward silence. Matt suggested I prepare myself by climbing some peaks in the coming year. While he explained I had a lot of work to do, he did think it was possible. This was eye opening because I found that if you are passionate about something, people will often follow you or help you out, sometimes just out of curiosity.

  Not everyone would be so encouraging or helpful, though. I received one email from an instructor of mine at West Point that made it clear there was no possible way I could climb Everest:

  It’s too dangerous, too expensive, and you’ll never get it approved. I applaud [your] efforts but it won’t happen….I don’t think you should focus on this right now as a cadet.

  That was harsh. I printed out the email and pasted it on my wall in my barracks room for inspiration. By that time, I had already put in so much work that instead of the negative comments causing self-doubt, they just stoked the fire within me, causing it to burn hotter.

  At this point, the only person who really encouraged me other than Matt was Rachel, which was kind of backward since she had the most to lose. I was jeopardizing our relationship and our future by working toward this goal. I was a twenty-two-year-old cadet. I had no real reason to think I could do it. But I thought I could. And Rachel thought I could too.

  I began readi
ng everything about Everest I could get my hands on, both online and in books. One small guidebook I picked up started with this: “Everest is a deadly mountain. Anyone who thinks otherwise has never been there or will never return. Although you will learn a lot on Everest, think of the climb as a severe and possible fatal final test, not a training ground.” I guess the author wanted to make sure people knew what they were getting into. The next paragraph wasn’t much more encouraging, listing in a concise and emotionless tone a few of the dangers:

  A full Everest expedition takes up to two months, and most of that time you will feel unwell, while surrounded only by rocks and ice.

  You cross huge crevasses on treacherous ladders and go from boiling hot to incredibly cold temperatures within hours.

  There is a high risk of frostbite, and you can’t count on evacuation.

  Your life is threatened most of the time; if you reach high altitude, you will see and walk past the dead bodies of other climbers.*1

  Another piece of information that caught my attention was that the top of Mount Everest is in the jet stream, a series of atmospheric highways five to nine miles above sea level. With Everest sitting 29,029 feet high,*2 the summit is often lashed by these ferocious winds. There is a window of time in the late spring, mostly in May, when the weather is more predictable, making it the safest time to climb to the summit. If you go too early, you can freeze or get blown off the mountain in a matter of minutes. Timing is everything.