On a family vacation to Gray’s Meadow on Independence Creek, dad took off fishing. A sandwich for lunch in his creel, and mom drove down before dinner to give him a ride back up the slope. My sister was maybe 11, me 12, and we decided to climb the big hill on the other side of the stream. The peak seemed close, but upon arriving we discovered it was maybe 100 yards more. That peak also wasn’t the peak…well, you get the picture. Like the hill and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, many goals are changing targets. Becoming godly is one of them.