Ascent
Ascent is an upward slope or rising grade. it involves the act of climbing or traveling up, as in the climbers "ascent on Mt. Rainier."
At least twice while living in Georgia, we ascended Brasstown Bald, and once we ascended Kennesaw Mountain. Neither were huge mountains -- it was Georgia, after all. But even that ascent required exertion. Effort.
The last mile of the Marine Corps Marathon in 2003 was uphill. I ascended the hill and finished, but I was also exhausted.
Ascent is not easy.
But the word "ascend" conveys something uniquely satisfying. If you ascend something, there generally seems to be a reward at the end. The reward for ascending Brasstown Bald was the view. The reward for ascending the last hill in the Marine Corps Marathon was the feeling of great accomplishment.
In contrast, "descent" may on first blush seem easier, but descent seems to convey something different -- as in, the descent into the abyss.
So it is striking, but fitting, that the first verse of the first Psalm of Ascent (the Songs of Ascent or the Pilgrim Songs) reads like this:
"In my distress I called to the Lord." (Psalm 120:1)
Ascent begins in the depths and then cries out for help. The road is not straight, not flat, not easy. The ascent is not quick. The movement may sometimes be almost imperceptible: "I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning."
Yet the reward for those who persevere -- those who wait -- is great: "they shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint."
At least twice while living in Georgia, we ascended Brasstown Bald, and once we ascended Kennesaw Mountain. Neither were huge mountains -- it was Georgia, after all. But even that ascent required exertion. Effort.
The last mile of the Marine Corps Marathon in 2003 was uphill. I ascended the hill and finished, but I was also exhausted.
Ascent is not easy.
But the word "ascend" conveys something uniquely satisfying. If you ascend something, there generally seems to be a reward at the end. The reward for ascending Brasstown Bald was the view. The reward for ascending the last hill in the Marine Corps Marathon was the feeling of great accomplishment.
In contrast, "descent" may on first blush seem easier, but descent seems to convey something different -- as in, the descent into the abyss.
So it is striking, but fitting, that the first verse of the first Psalm of Ascent (the Songs of Ascent or the Pilgrim Songs) reads like this:
"In my distress I called to the Lord." (Psalm 120:1)
Ascent begins in the depths and then cries out for help. The road is not straight, not flat, not easy. The ascent is not quick. The movement may sometimes be almost imperceptible: "I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning."
Yet the reward for those who persevere -- those who wait -- is great: "they shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint."