I Hate The Hill

I live on a hill. I take a right out of my drive and take brisk jog down to the cul-de-sac then I turn and face The Hill. I hate The Hill, a half mile of passive aggressive asphalt that taunts me every day. Climbing the hill takes heel digging, teeth clinching effort and I hate it. So why do I climb it? I do it not just because of the flab that returns when I don't for even a few days. I climb The Hill because my daughter's good friend, 17 year old Heather, found out this summer that she has diabetes and she will have to climb that hill every day the rest of her life. I climb The Hill because my friend Jenny who has two small children and cancer is climbing the hardest hill of her life. I climb The Hill because thousands of people on the Gulf Coast have no hill or home or family or anything. The greatest challenge I have had to face lately is having to wait until payday to go to Starbucks. So every day I climb The Hill and I remember and I pray. I still hate climbing The Hill, but I never regret it.