As a Side Note...

I recently posted about how vision is a great source of hope.

Without vision hope is little more than a wish.

But there is more to the story.

Yesterday my wife and I had the privilege of spending a few hours with one of my mentors and his wife, and we both left feeling just a little more hopeful.  Usually this mentor has words of wisdom, and is able to offer perspective.  I went wondering what vision he would have to offer, what new information he would provide that would give me clarity on some of life's more difficult challenges.  But that was not what happened.

I went in prepared to listen.  But instead they listened as my wife and I poured out some of the challenges we've been trying to tackle as a team.  Instead of advice, our words with met with sympathy and understanding.  Instead of finding new perspective, we discovered that they are navigating very similar waters.  Instead of feeling isolated in our struggles, we now know that we are not alone.

It reminds me of the first time I climbed Mt. Katahdin, Maine's highest peak.  I was in 8th grade, and hadn't done much hiking.  I was one of the very last people in our large group of teenagers to reach the top, and by the time I got there, everyone else was rested and ready to head back down.  I ended up making my way down with another straggler, an annoying 7th grade boy named Jeff.  As we made our way down, we came to a place where several trails met, and we were unsure which one would take us back to where our youth leaders and the church van were waiting.  We spotted what looked like a group of teens some distance ahead and decided to catch up to them.  As we got closer we realized that they weren't from our group.  We had made our decision to take this trail on bad information, and we didn't know if it would lead us to our destination or not. It is worth noting that every school student is Maine is required to read a book called "Lost on a Mountain in Maine", about a boy who gets lost while hiking Mt. Katahdin...  So our imaginations had plenty of fodder for dreaming up worst case scenarios.  I think I would have panicked if Jeff hadn't been there.  Not that this kid who had a habit of spraying shaving cream on me while I slept, was a mountain of emotional stability, but I didn't want to look panicked and scared in front of him, so I acted tough.  Together we faced the unknown and the very real possibility that, with the sun quickly setting, we would get to the end of the trail, discover we were on the wrong side of the mountain, and need to head back up the mountain in a different direction.  Just having someone to face the difficult journey with made it easier.

We were overjoyed to see the church van in the parking lot.  And I never found Jeff quite so annoying after that. He never sprayed me with shaving cream again, (though there was one incident involving crickets in my sleeping bag...) 10 years later he stood beside as a groomsman in my wedding, and a year later I returned the favor.

It wasn't vision that got us down the mountain, or through the difficult situation, it was camaraderie.  Camaraderie made the panic worthy situation seem a little less overwhelming.  Even if the night got dark and we couldn't see the trail or the things moving in the woods, we wouldn't be alone, and that was a source of comfort, a source of hope.  That same kind of hope is what Shandy and I found in a mentor's living room yesterday.

Walkabout Day 3

The third day of my walkabout, was scheduled to be a climb up and across the Saddleback Mountain range a series of three 4000 foot peaks.   I thought I would try it, but after about 2 miles The knees just wouldn't take it anymore.

I spent the rest of the day in a series of caves and on Piazza rock, reading my Bible and talking to God.  It was the best part of my time in the woods.  Relieved of the distraction of climbing mountains, I was able to focus on my real reason for being in the woods.

I got to read entire books of the Bible.

I spent hours in prayer and solitude.

I was reminded of the value of being still and knowing Him. 

It was extremely refreshing. 

I spent a third night in the woods, and the following day I sang old hymns loudly as I hiked down from lofty mountain grandeur, saw the brooks and felt the gentle breeze.  I then got to spend another 1/2 day in the woods and the word while waiting for my wife to pick me up.

Just before my hike I bought a medallion.

It appealed to me because it reminded me that if I want strong branches I must have strong roots.  If I want to bear fruit, I have to be well nourished.  If I want what people see to positively influence them, then I need to be diligent and disciplined in the things they can't see.

I think that this was the biggest lesson from my time in the woods. 
I have been so focused on trying to bear fruit that I forgot the wisdom of Psalm 1.

 

Blessed is the man... whose delight is in the law of the Lord,

and in His law he meditates day and night.

He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,

Which yields fruit in its season and it's leaf does not wither;

and in whatever he does, he prospers.

Seems like a simple lesson. 
Put first things first...
Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness... 

Sometimes I get so focused on seeking His kingdom, that I forget to just seek Him. 

Like not being able to see the forest for the trees, or not being able to enjoy the trail because you are thinking about the difficult climb ahead...

I needed to be reminded.

Meditate on the Word.

Because if the roots are healthy, the fruit and the leaves will be healthy.

 

For the ground that drinks the rain which often falls on it and brings forth vegetation useful to those for whose sake it is also tilled, receives a blessing from God; but if it yields thorns and thistles, it is worthless and close to being  cursed and it ends up being burned. 

Hebrews 6:7&8

Walkabout Day 2

The game changer for day two of my hike was the little knee injury from the previous day.  I think I hurt it initially about a month ago when hiking with the teens.  I slipped and landed badly, but the terrain wasn't so bad and I kept going.  It wasn't until the next day that it really hurt.  On the second day of my walkabout I realized it was likely the same injury.

 

With 11.4 miles ahead of me, I decided to get an early start.   My first break would be about five miles down the trail at a spot where the trail cam near a small pond.  I was about two miles in, enjoying the beauty of the forest in the early morning, and singing loudly and badly, when Sunshine, a thru-hiker, caught up to me.  I managed to keep up with him for the next two and a half miles, and enjoyed conversation and trail stories.  We took our ease at the lake, and I heard a bit more of his life when he's not on the trail, and shared a bit about my life.  As with Troubadour the night before, I wished that I could say something profound that would turn our conversation to things eternal, but it didn't happen...  When we started back down my aching knee had started taking it's toll, and the morning spent hiking faster that I probably should have also was having an effect, and I was quickly outdistanced. 

It wasn't long before being gentle on the left knee started taking it's toll on the old car accident injury to my right knee, and the possibility that I may not get over the looming mountains grew to a probability. 

 

As I hiked I wondered why these journeys always seem to end early on account of injury.  As I traversed the miles in solitude, I came up with three distinct possibilities.

 

1. Perseverance:  Could it be that I'm just a wimp, and don't like to do things that are uncomfortable?  I met an eight or nine year old boy on a day hike with his family, and you could tell by the look on his face he wasn't enjoying his trek.  He looked at me and asked "Can you tell me how this is supposed to build character?" as though someone had told him that hiking would do so, but he really didn't believe them.  I told him that it would teach him to keep going even when things got hard and that would help him in everything else.  His dad smiled broadly and as our paths crossed I heard him say something to the effect of "see that's what I've been telling you".  Perhaps that was the lesson I needed to learn.  Just persevere.  Don't quit because it isn't easy.  Fight through it.  Like I told that boy, it is a lesson worth learning, that has application for every aspect of life, and especially ministry.

 

2. Refocus.  I went out on the trail to spend quite time with God, but all I could think about was the trail, the mountains, the miles, etc.  Hiking was supposed to be my secondary objective, but there I was ready to quit because hiking hurt.  I has told my wife I needed at least three nights alone in the woods with God.  I needed to focus on that objective, being alone with God.  To be still and know Him better, but my focus was all on hiking.  I realized that ministry can be the same way.  I find myself so busy that what should be an expression or overflow of my relationship with God becomes my main objective.

 

3. Get Healthy.  Sometimes the simple solution is the best one.  Sometimes, you hurt and can't do what you want to do because you are just six years older than the last time you tried this and you've gained weight, and sat behind a desk for too long.  Sometimes you need just this kind of a wake up call so that you'll get into the kind of shape you know you'll need to be in to keep up with two little boys who will soon be teenagers.

 

I think that's enough for today... 

All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful;  yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.  Therefore strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble, and make straight paths for your feet so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint but rather healed.

Hebrews 12:11-13

Walkabout Day 1

So this years walkabout went about like this...  I didn't hike nearly as many miles as I intended, I realized that I am not nearly as fit as I think I am, I learned some much needed humility, and I met with God.

 

Day 1 was a short 4ish mile trek from Rt 17 to Sabbath Day Pond.  It was beautiful, It was just challenging enough to remind me that I hadn't hiked with a pack in 6 years, and it was a great opportunity to just thank God for the chance to be out in the woods.  I quickly realized that there would be a bigger challenge ahead of me.  I actually hate being alone, and the idea of being in the woods just me and God was daunting.  I had to spend some serious time meditating on that.  Why was being alone with God so overwhelming?  Why was I hoping other hikers would show up? Wasn't I coming out to be alone with God?  Well the other hikers came after just a few hours, and I got the distraction I thought I wanted.  I had a good conversation with a thru-hiker named Troubadour, who was quite a musician, and put on a mini concert for several of us that night.  We all shared trail stories, and it was good, very restful, and I thought an excellent way to start my trek.

On a side note,  I scared a partridge.  The thing was so close when it took off that a wing literally hit my hiking pole.  If you have ever heard a partridge take off, you know how loud they can be, and in the peace and quiet of the woods, it was enough to make me jump about 10 feet out of my boots.  As I started to feel foolish for being so startled by a bird, I heard something else crashing through the woods.  I turned to see what I thought was a skunk coming through the brush, and not wanting to get sprayed I scooted away.  From behind me I heard hissing and snarling, so I turned around to see what it was, and it wasn't a skunk but an angry badger.  I have never met a badger in the woods, but I now know where they get their reputation for being mean and fearless.  The twenty pound critter was pretty ticked at me for scaring away its lunch, and meant to make sure I knew.  It reared up as I turned around, teeth bared, and claws up, like it was a miniature bear. When he had finished his roar of challenge he dropped to all fours and came at me! Seeing no need to fight the badger I did the only sensible thing and ran away... 

 

On another side note, I was going down a long flat rock that had a pretty good angle and started to slip.  I caught my self quickly, but not before doing something to make my left knee make a strange popping sound (my left knee is supposed to be my good knee, as my right knee was injured in the car accident I had when I was 20, and has never been right since...)  I didn't think much of it at the time, as it didn't seem that bad, but just before I reached camp I had to do a pretty good down hill, and it really hurt...  It was the beginning of a lesson, and you can read more about it in tomorrow's post.

 

"And you know the plans that you have for me, and you can't plan the ends and not plan the means..." Caedmon's Call.

Prelude to a Walkabout

Some cultures call it a walkabout, some a vision quest, I like to think of it as a mini version of what Jesus did...  Going off into the wilderness to meet with God.  Jesus did it for 40 days, I'll be doing it for 9, and he did it without food or drink, I'll be bringing both, but the goal is the same: to get away from all of the distractions, and get some much needed perspective on my mission.

I did this for the first time 7 years ago.  So much has changed since.  7 years ago I was single, today I am a husband and father.  7 years ago I was an 'almost man' in transition, today I am a tree with roots.  I think that I have learned more about who God is and what matters in the last seven years that I had in all of the years leading up to them.  It started with a journey.

I was broken when I started that journey, and I learned that I needed further breaking.  I profoundly proud, and needed to be humbled before I would truly be useful.  I had just made the decision to leave the church where I had grown up, and where I had first served my King. Circumstances had come together to make me see some things about the culture that had formed my view of who God was, that I could not tolerate, and I had to leave.  But my whole identity was wrapped up in that culture.  Who was I without it?  That was what I needed to find out, and that was the reason for my first walkabout. 

I hit the Appalachian Trail, or AT, for what I thought would be a 30+ day hike from the New Hampshire border to the top of Mount Katadhin...  I was home within 48 hours.  I will never forget the meeting I had at the top of that first mountain.  Two old guys were in the lean two when I arrived.  They took one look at me and laughed.  "What are you planning to do with that axe" they asked, "Who do you think you are, Paul Bunyan?"  They were guides, men who knew the mountains well.  They would lead boy scouts into the woods, and help them understand what they were doing.  They asked me how heavy my pack was, and were extremely critical of almost every item I unloaded to use that night.  They offered to go through my pack like they would do for the boy scouts, and help me get rid of anything I didn't need.  I was tired and achy, and didn't want any part of their harsh criticism.

Today I wish I could find them and ask them to go through my pack and weed out anything I didn't need.  Friday I will start my hike with less than 1/2 as many pounds on my back... 

Those old guys knew what they were talking about.  Because Before I had gone two miles the next day my legs were so tired and achy that they were literally twitching on their own.  It was the strangest thing I've ever experienced. Like some kind of localized seizure...  After falling several times, I did the only logical thing I could do.  Made it to a road, and got out of the woods.

Before I hit the trail again, I took some advise.  I lightened my load, a bit, and started back out.  This time I was only two days in when I slipped, and re-injured my bad knee (originally injured in a car accident 3 years earlier).  I hobbled the next 4 miles to a road, and out I went.  Defeated and dejected.

After licking my wounds (mostly my ego) for a few days, I decided to try one more time.  I picked a section of woods where I would have to go several days  before I'd even be able to get out.  My first night of that hike I was surrounded by people, several of whom were smoking pot and using every 4 letter word I'd ever heard and even some I'd never heard before.  I remember getting ready to set up my tent away from the group, when for the first time on this walkabout I heard God loud and clear. 

God: "Go be with them."
Me: "I didn't come out hear to be around all of that, I came out her to be ALONE, with You."
God:"You are the light of the world, no one lights a lamp and hides it under a bowl".
Me: (grumpy) "Fine!"

I met the Jersey boys, a pot smoking, foul mouthed duo of ner-do-wells.  I met an unmarried couple my parents age who were adept at blending in with any crowd, and I met Mark, a quite marathon running, father of 2 teenagers who was quietly reading a book.

I got a chance to share my Bible and some good conversation with Mark, and by the end of our hike, we prayed together as Mark repented for 2 decades spent running from God. 

The very next morning I split my toe wide open and had to limp out and call it a summer. (I learned a great lesson that day that I will recount for you some other time...)  But that summer I learned what the Bible means when it says: "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.  For God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble."

I had a plan for how I wanted to pursue God.  God taught me that He is the one who does the pursuing.  All I have to do is listen, trust and obey.  He used my weakness to move me into a place where He could use me.  He did it litterally that summer, but He also taught me that His strength is not best seen by my using my strengths.  His strength is made perfect in weakness.

So as I venture out for another walkabout, my first as a husband and father, I am praying that God's agenda will be met.  Whatever that entails...  And I'll tell you all about it in a week or two.